


Oneiroi and Hephaestus

by Lady Angel (dameange)



Category: Criminal Minds, Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-06
Updated: 2010-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-11 12:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dameange/pseuds/Lady%20Angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Reid was one of the Yellow-eyed demon's special children?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oneiroi and Hephaestus

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Supernatural up to Season 4, Ep 1: Lazarus Rising and Criminal Minds up to Season 4, Ep 15: Revelations
> 
> Author's Note: AU. Really, really AU. The timelines are completely off and I messed with a few other canon tidbits as well.
> 
> A GREAT BIG HUGE THANK YOU to Sara for all of her moral support, cheerleading, inspiration and friendship. Without her, this story probably would have never, ever been finished.

  
   
Prologue

_Because I could not stop for Death  
He kindly stopped for me – Emily Dickinson_

She made a deal with the devil.

Her sanity, her marriage, the world she wanted to share with her infant son.

She bargained it all away to keep her life. To keep him safe.

But in the end, the devil came back to claim her son.

She was too lost in her own mind to know.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The year he turned twenty-three would be forever etched in his mind.

That was the year a killer had used his mentally ill mother to deliver clues to his team; clues that lead them to a burning castle and an ill-fated princess. The twisted fairy tale ended with the loss of a dear friend, not happily ever after.

It was the year a serial killer stole him from the bosom of his FBI family. It was the year he realized that all the schoolyard bullies in the world couldn't hold a candle to a religiously fanatical father and a terrified morphine-addicted son, both housed in the same body. Hours of fear and pain culminated in digging his own grave before salvation from the terror materialized in a haze of gun fire, dark hair and strong arms.

It was the year he came to the devastating realization that he was addicted to the morphine forced upon him by his abductor.

It was the year that almost ended his life.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Spencer Reid sat at his tiny dinner table, tricolored eyes staring at the little vials of morphine. He knew he shouldn't have taken them from Charles Henkel's lifeless body but the addiction's seductive voice had already taken root in his body and mind. That voice told him those vials had been his by right of inheritance. That voice weakly purred that now would be a great time for another shot of morphine. Once his fingers twitched to do it, to inject liquid bliss into his thin, blue veins.

Only the dreams stopped him.

Fire filled his dreams since the night of his rescue, growing stronger, brighter every successive night. Flowing through his veins, his arteries, emanating from his entire being. The flames caressed him, danced about him, happy to be free at last. They thanked the vials for releasing them before stabbing the morphine in the back, slowly pushing the drug out of his system. There wasn't enough room in him for both addiction and mythical power.

He had only used a bottle and a half, since he had stolen the morphine, before the fire had completely burned the addiction from him, mind and body.

Reid loved the flames.

Grateful to them for ridding him of the disease.

Grateful for the control over his life once more.

Grateful enough to let them play.

Next to the now useless vials, a large white pillar candle sat, unlit.

Reid stared at it, then flicked long, elegant fingers that no longer shook with unwanted need, over the wick. Delight lit up his delicate features as a single, blue flame consumed the wick before turning to red. The candle burned steadily, flame dancing merrily with the air currents. Mesmerized, Reid let the fire lick its thanks across the tips of his fingers. He felt the warmth, but none of the pain.

That night, his apartment sparkled with the light of a hundred candles. All lit with just a touch of his fingers.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Sam Winchester clutched his head, huddling further into his older brother's embrace, still reeling from the vision-induced pain. Dean's voice, soft and hypnotic, soothed the pain and his soul. Moment by moment, the pain eased, letting his muscles unknot, leaving him limp in Dean's arms.

"Sammy?"

"I'm okay." Even to him, he sounded shaky but it was a pain that could not be helped nor controlled.

"Uh huh, sure." Dean helped him back up on the bed. Sam curled up, grateful for the darkness of the motel room. "What did you see?"

"A guy, fire, the Lincoln Memorial."

"D.C.?" Dean was obviously surprised but also thoroughly unhappy as well. "The land of the feds? Like the one chasing us?"

"Yeah." Sam was no more pleased than Dean. He wanted his brother as far away from Agent Hendrickson as possible but they couldn't ignore his prophetic dreams. Lives depended on following the dreams. It took mere moments for the two brothers to stuff their meager belongings into their duffel bags. It took quite a bit longer for them to carefully repack their weapons into their proper places in the Impala's trunk. Once done, they immediately left, not once looking back at the anonymous motel that had been their temporary base in Pennsylvania. With Dean behind the wheel, Sam slumped in the passenger seat, trusting his brother to get them where they needed to be.

~*~*~*~*~*~  
~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Chapter One

 

"Haley, I don't have time for this." Aaron Hotchner clenched his fist, consciously relaxing it muscle by muscle. He really didn't have time for this, but then again, that was only one of the accusations being hurled at him through the phone. That it was his inattention to her that drove Haley to bring another man into her bed. Strange, he always thought that the vows they exchanged included fidelity through the good times and bad. Should he look up the word bad? Did that word's connotation somehow exclude difficulties at work? Of course, the same could be said about her infidelity. Was cheating covered by the bad times vow? He could ask Reid; he would know. "Haley, I have to go."

Hotchner wanted to say that he felt no guilt whatsoever when he hung up on his ex-wife. He really wanted to be able to say that. But the reality was a sad lie. He did feel guilt: for not being there for her and their son Jack, for spending so much time at work, for enjoying being at work. But who could blame him? Positive reinforcement was a powerful tool in the hands of the FBI. Every time a case was solved, they commended him and his team. His team gave him a sense of camaraderie and understanding that Haley could never or even try to achieve.

He watched his team through his office window, delaying his return to them for a few more minutes. He knew they had to get to the joint FBI/DC police meeting very soon but he wanted to enjoy them unheeded. He didn't see the oldest member of their team, but he was sure Jason Gideon was in his office. Derek Morgan and Jennifer "JJ" Jareau were in the bullpen, ganging up on Emily Prentiss, laughing and teasing while dark haired woman blushed bright red and tried to fend them off. She found a surprising ally in Spencer Reid; whatever he said shocked the other three enough to stop all conversation. Only Hotchner could see the little smile on Reid's lips when he turned away from them.

Hotchner glanced guiltily away when he realized he had been staring at those long, thin lips for seconds too long. If a priest were to ask, Hotchner would confess that while Haley may have acted on her infidelity, he had been culpable of the same sin, if only in his mind. Over the years he had known Reid, he found himself admiring more than just Reid's incredible mind. Kissable lips, a veil of peek-a-boo hair, and a svelte body that was in turns graceful and awkward. Eyes that saw too much but thankfully not enough. Hotchner sometimes feared what the young man would see in his eyes.

He absently wondered what Haley would think if she knew she had been replaced in his fantasies by a lithe young man that always looked at him with worship in his eyes.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Our unknown subject is targeting any location where gay men congregate," Hotchner lectured from the front of the DC police's largest conference room. The room was filled to the brim with police brass and officers, some who wanted to be there, others not. This was an extremely high profile case; various gay and lesbian groups across the country were demanding the killer be caught immediately. Politicians didn't like the idea of a serial killer running amok in the seat of American politics. Needless to say, the BAU and DC police were being extremely pressured and carefully watched. "Due to the numerous locales, two pairs of teams will be assigned to each site along with a small skeleton surveillance crew for backup."

"The teams going undercover will consist of a summer and fall couple." Gideon took over the explanations, hiding his smile when confusion passed over many faces. "The killer has been seeking out pairs consisting of one young man and his slightly older partner. For those of you who have volunteered," he paused, when he noticed the winces on many, "or assigned to this operation, you will be paired accordingly."

Reid watched the proceedings with trepidation, notebook in hand, to hide behind more than anything else, thanks to his eidetic memory. Everyone was needed for this operation and he fit the victimology's age requirement but he knew he wasn't ready to participate. Even with his newly gained control he didn't feel ready. Even his fiery defensive powers couldn't calm his nerves. He didn't want to pretend to be someone's significant other; he could never pull it off. Nothing he could do would make it believable. After all, with no experience to draw on, how could he? He cringed, eyes shutting as he heard his name being called out. He couldn't wait to find out whom he had been paired up with. His eyes shot open, mouth dropped, mind blanked as he heard his partner's name. He stared at Hotchner's impassive face unable to believe his ears. This? This was worse than being partnered up with some random law enforcement officer. This was worse than being partnered with Morgan!

How was he supposed to act all lovey dovey with Hotchner and pretend to not feel a thing? This was turning out to be a worse nightmare than everything preceding and including the morphine addiction. He knew he wouldn't be able to hide his thoroughly inappropriate desire for the other man. Hotchner was happily married, a devoted father. Reid had absolutely no place in his life except as a team member and friend. Life, Reid decided, was not fair.

He uneasily watched as agents and officers began pairing up. Gideon and the female half of their team, of course, had been designated as part of the surveillance and backup teams. Morgan had been assigned to DC patrol officer Alex Shannon who was even younger looking than Reid, if that was possible. The African American agent looked like it was any other assignment but the young blond officer kept shooting Morgan wary looks. Reid knew he had to be one of the officers who had been volunteered by his superiors for this assignment and wasn't comfortable with it at all. Reid could totally and completely understand.

"Reid?"

He barely stopped himself from setting his notebook on fire. He didn't stop himself from jumping at Hotchner's deep voice. "Hotch!"

"Ready?" he asked, bending towards Reid.

Reid had to force himself not to step back; he was immeasurably glad to see an encouraging smile grace Hotchner's lips. "Uh, sure. For what?"

Hotchner gave him a self-deprecating smile. "We need to be dressed before we go."

Reid nodded, following his boss out to the wardrobe department. He resolutely did not watch Hotchner move in front of him. Less than an hour later, they were dressed in clothes that would fit into any bar or club but wasn't so skimpy that Reid was uncomfortable, thankfully. He leaned back into his chair in the black SUV, observing how comfortable Hotchner was in his clothes and trying to emulate it. At least, that's what he told himself. Really, he wasn't sneaking looks and thinking how utterly sexy Hotchner looked in tight black jeans and muscle-hugging black, short-sleeved shirt. And he really wasn't thinking about how all those dark clothes only emphasized Hotchner's dark hair and eyes and made his tanned skin glow. Really, he wasn't.

In less time than he would have liked, Hotchner was valet parking the car, opening his door and holding out a hand. Reid bit his lip, gazing into coffee brown depths, reading reassurance and encouragement there. He slipped his hand into a bigger, warmer one, sliding down from the car and into Hotchner's personal space. Head tilted back, he was able to keep eye contact, not realizing how sexy he looked gazing up into his faux lover's eyes. He hesitantly drifted further towards Hotchner looking every bit the shy, virginal, first timer. Those lined up at the club's entrance positively salivated and frothed at the mouth, envious that tall, dark and handsome had gotten to this sweet, sweet morsel before anyone else had a chance.

Reid didn't notice any of this. He merely clung to Hotchner's arm for dear life as they were swept into the club's darkly boisterous interior. Terrifying minutes passed before Reid found himself safely ensconced between the comforting bulk of Hotchner's body and the bar. He didn't think they should drink while on assignment but said nothing as his boss grabbed the bartender's attention. His drink arrived in a glass tumbler, Hotchner's in a shot glass. When he sipped at his drink, he was not surprised to find Hotchner had ordered him ginger ale. Continuing to sip, he watched the club, trying to see if anyone was more interested in watching and stalking than in drinking and dancing.

"Reid, you need to relax."

Hotchner's lips brushed against his ear making him shiver. He turned his head just enough to be heard over the din, afraid to get too close. "I am relaxed."

"You look like a cop looking for a perp." A smile twitched up Hotchner's mouth before he slammed back his shot.

Reid opened his mouth to refute it. But simply moaned instead. The sound was captured by Hotchner's lips brushing against his. Big hands held his head steady as those lips continued to brush back and forth, sensitizing Reid's mouth. Finally, finally, Hotchner sealed their mouths together. Reid whimpered when a tiny trickle of sweet whiskey flowed into his mouth followed by Hotchner's stroking tongue. He swallowed convulsively, shifting closer, hands grabbing onto the wrists anchoring him to this plane of existence. Instinctively moving his legs apart when his knees were nudged. He let the wrists go when the hands moved south. He gasped into their kiss when those hands cupped his hips and slid him closer, urging him to wrap himself around Hotchner.

He did so gladly.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The road to hell was never so sweet or so responsive. Hotchner groaned as Reid wrapped those lusciously long legs around his hips and those gazelle graceful hands slid into his hair. Reid played with the strands even as he lured Hotchner into a deeper kiss. Jesus, he was adorable and delicious. A combination designed to undermine his restraint. Reid kissed like a nervous virgin but every sound that fell from his lips was sultry and wanton. Every little gasp, every little whimper, every hitch of breath loosened the reins on Hotchner's control that little bit more.

Reid would be lucky to escape from this bar untouched.

Honestly, he had only wanted to add to their cover, thinking that kissing Reid would further engender the image of a seasoned seducer showing off his tasty innocent to the watching crowd. He never thought Reid would kiss him back. Never thought the world would fall away, or that his control would slip away like mist. Hotchner grunted in pain as a heavy body slammed into his back.

"Sorry, man."

Hotchner didn't know whether to thank Morgan or punch his lights out. Luckily for Morgan and his partner, Shannon, the crowd separated them. Glancing back down at Reid's kiss-swollen lips and lust-hazed eyes, Hotchner didn't know whether to kiss him again or run away as fast as he could. The hesitant fear filtering into those doe eyes stopped him from doing either extreme. Instead, he lightly brushed Reid's mouth with his own once more, not letting himself drown in that mouth again. "Spencer, we need to talk."

Reid nodded, eyes now wide saucers.

"We also need to get back to work," he added ruefully.

Reid blinked, nodding once more.

Hotchner mimicked his nod, turning his back to the bar to face the dance floor. He kept a respectable distance between himself and Reid. He signaled the bartender for a water, taking those precious minutes to tame his unruly demons that were demanding to be let off their leash and back to their delicious Reid. After gulping the water, he nodded faintly at Morgan, informing the other man that his head was back on the job. He let his eyes pass over the surging dancers. The dance floor was not the place to find their unsub. The killer they were looking for would be sitting on the sidelines searching for his next targets.

There. A middle age man, built like a construction worker, sat at a booth alone, watching all of the dancers. It wasn't that he was alone that caught Hotchner's attention. It was the way the man glared at the couples and the air of menace emanating from the very air around him. "Morgan, do you see him?"

"Yeah." Morgan's voice rumbled through his earpiece. "Should we wait for him to make a move?"

"We don't have any reason to question him," Reid pointed out, those damn lips of his too damn close to Hotchner's ear.

Hotchner nodded, not trusting his voice not to betray him. Both he and Morgan kept their eyes on the guy but the guy never made a move except to order more drinks. Finally, Hotchner had enough of the inaction. "Morgan, I'm going to get closer. See if he wants to commiserate with a peer."

Reid grabbed his forearm before he could go, gazing up at him with worried eyes. He squeezed his hand, reassuring him the best he could. Hotchner nearly punched the wall after he made it through the throng of dancers. The guy was gone. "Morgan, do you see him?"

"No, I've got the back. I'm sending Shannon up front."

"I'll meet you." Hotchner pushed his way through the dancers once more. "Reid, go to the front and cover Officer Shannon." He frowned. "Reid? Spencer, answer me."

"Please let me go." Reid's voice was mostly calm but a hint of fear threaded through it. "Why are you taking me through the back?"

"Morgan!" Hotchner stopped caring about the people he was pushing and shoving out of the way. He snarled, heaving people left and right, fighting to get to the back door. He burst through it, followed seconds later by Morgan. Guns drawn, they fanned out through the alley. Guns snapped to the left where Reid stood as a human shield. Behind him, the menacing construction worker held a gun to Reid's head. The man managed to completely hide himself behind Reid despite their difference in size. Neither agent had a clear shot. "Let him go."

"No." The nameless man yanked Reid even closer. "Get rid of the guns, go back into the club."

"No." Hotchner moved, trying to get into a better position. "You let him go first."

The guy snorted. "Yeah, right. Like hell. I'm gettin' out of here and he's comin' with me."

Hotchner growled as the guy crassly groped Reid. He vaguely sensed the rest of his team entering the alleyway.

"Me and him are gonna have a great time together."

Hotchner snarled, mentally raging. This was not their serial killer. He didn't know who this man was, but he was not the one rampaging though DC murdering gay couples. From his words, his actions, it sounded as if he had been cruising the club for his next rape victim. Men were less likely to report incidents of rapes than women; gay men even less. Not surprising, therefore, to have a serial rapist operating in the DC gay community. "Not a chance in hell."

The guy grinned nastily. "I think so. You can't hit me without hittin' him."

It was the truth. They all knew it.

"Looks like we've got a standoff, then." Morgan barked, hiking up his gun to level it at the hostage taker.

"Not if I kill you first." The gun was aimed at Hotchner.

"No!" Reid screamed.

Hotchner jumped out of the way. Morgan and the rest of the team dodged in the opposite direction. The bastard kept shooting. They kept evading the bullets. A horrified scream rent the air. They all turned back to see flames erupting around Reid and his captor. Hotchner stared in horrified fascination as the wall of fire completely surrounded them. The would-be rapist was yelling obscenities and pleas for help. Reid was oddly quiet.

"Spencer?" Hotchner tried to get closer but couldn't, the intense heat kept him away. His jaw dropped as Reid walked through the wall of flames. The young man was unscathed and seemingly unaffected by the fire that surrounded him. He walked right into Hotchner's arms. Only then could he feel the minute shivers that racked Reid's slender body.

"Tell Morgan to be ready with his cuffs," drifted up from where Reid had buried his face in Hotchner's neck.

He repeated the order, making certain that Morgan and Prentiss were positioned to grab the guy. "Ready, Spencer."

Reid lifted his head to stare at the fire. One hand reached out then closed into a fist. The inferno shrank into a single flame before disappearing.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~  
~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Chapter Two

 

Hotchner was able keep his peace throughout the rapist's arrest, delivering his verbal report to his superiors, and finding out from other members of the task force's leadership that another team had successfully captured their serial killer. The rapist tried to tell every and all that would listen about Reid being a fire starter, but without a single trace of evidence or collaborating testimony, he had been written off as a dangerous mental case. No one had said anything about what had happened in that alley; it was as if they were all waiting for his cue. Including Reid. Special, special Reid was quieter than a church mouse. Hiding in plain sight and keeping up appearances as if he hadn't controlled fire. Once all the reports were done, Hotchner stood at the rail in front of his office. His sharp whistle easily caught their attention. "Everyone's invited to breakfast. My house at nine A.M."

Unsurprisingly, they all nodded then looked towards Reid, who hid behind a veil of his burnished hair. Hotchner grabbed his stuff, moving to intercept him before the younger man could escape. "Let me give you a ride."

Reid gave him the big doe-eyed look, complete with parted pink lips and soft hair swinging as he nodded. Hotchner mentally sighed. Reid could have asked him for just about anything in that second and he'd have gladly given it. He placed his hand low on Reid's back, escorting him out of the building and into his car. The drive back to his house was silent; Hotchner was unwilling to break it until they reached their destination. He wanted to be able to see every nuance in Reid's face as they talked.

The house was empty and dark when he arrived. Thankfully, there wasn't a mess in sight. The last time Haley had been angry with him, she had rampaged through the house while he was gone. She hadn't dared to break any of his family's antiques but had broken things he had bought for her. He wondered if their closet was void of her things and if the dresser was now half empty. Hotchner felt guilty for thinking those thoughts and for his wish that they were true. He didn't want to deal with his wife any more. He had been willing to try for his son, but he would be the only reason. Unfortunately, he truly did not think even Jack could fix what was wrong with his parents' marriage. Nothing short of Haley making a different choice and a time machine.

"Hungry?" Hotchner asked softly, going through the house, turning on lights as he went.

"No. I'm okay. Thank you, though."

God, so polite it hurt. Hotchner watched as Reid rubbed at his arms and curled around himself. "Cold?"

Reid bit his lip. "Just a little?"

Hotchner smiled softly as he upped the heating then pulled off his coat and draped it around the younger man. "This should help until the house warms up."

"Thank you," he whispered. Reid looked up at him with those damn eyes again.

Hotchner was helpless, cupping Reid's cheeks, smoothing his thumbs over high cheekbones and staring down at him. "Good God, you're beautiful."

Pink blossomed under this thumbs, long lashes swept down to hide embarrassed eyes. "Hotch, we're in your house," he whispered.

That should have been a tsunami of cold water on his arousal. As it was, it did nothing but remind him that there were comfortable flat surfaces everywhere.

Reid reached up and grabbed his wrists, eyes still downcast. "I. I can't be the other. . . person." He sucked in a deep, quiet breath. His voice dropped to a near silent whispered but Hotchner heard him, nevertheless, "No matter how much I want you."

Hotchner was torn between self-flagellation and elation. He let go of Reid's face but grabbed his hands, pulling him towards the sofa. "I said we needed to talk."

"Yes. You said that. At the club. After. After." Reid blushed and didn't continue.

Hotchner didn't understand why he couldn't say it. He couldn't be that embarrassed. He had talked about Lila Archer without too much hesitation or difficulty. Why was his kiss with Hotchner so different? He didn't hate it; he returned it with full passion. With everything he was, he poured into that kiss. Perhaps it affected him more? Meant more? Hotchner hoped so. "Spencer, you're not the 'other.' Haley and I . . . it's been bad for a while now. It got worse when I came home too early about a month and half ago."

Reid finally lifted his head, eyes now wide with shock at the implication. Hotchner knew he wouldn't have to say a thing because the statistics and societal history said it all. "I'm sorry."

Hotchner nodded. "We're going through divorce proceedings now."

"That . . . no chance of reconciliation?"

Hotchner could tell Reid asked that with the best of intentions, no matter what he wanted for himself. Selfless and smart, that was his Reid. "There would have been, if it was the first time."

"Wow," Reid whispered. "That's . . . she actually . . ."

"Yeah. Straw, camel's back." He hated to use a cliché but they were clichés for a reason.

"Does that make me the rebound partner?" Reid's eyes were huge, his hands were already moving. "A rebound relationship is a distraction. It's a connection to another person that keeps us from having to experience the full extent of the emotional pain of our recent break-up. It's a misguided attempt to move on with our lives. Many people will jump back into the dating scene because they fear being alone. It's a quick fix, one in which we can drown out our pain by reveling in the emotional intensity and passion of a new found love."

Hotchner chuckled, keeping a firm grip on Reid, knowing the younger man might take the laughter the wrong way. It was abundantly clear that Reid was quoting from some relationship source. "No, you are definitely not the rebound. I'm sad that my marriage is ending but I'm not miserable. I only feel relief knowing that we can both do what we really want, have what we really want."

Reid nodded slowly, pausing to yawn. That was definitely a cue.

"C'mon, it's late." Hotchner stood and held out his hands. It would have to be Reid's decision on this one. If he wanted to come with Hotchner and all that it entailed, or stay here on the couch, unscathed. Relief was overwhelming when Reid slipped his hands into his. He led him upstairs and towards the bedroom. Reid balked at the door. "Nothing tonight," he assured. "Just sleep."

Reid bit his lip but nodded, coming into the room. Hotchner saw the way he was eying the bed. It was a speculative look; ambivalent, distrusting almost. For a moment he wondered why Reid was glaring at the bed like that, then the pieces clicked. Thank God for his profiling skills.

"I don't sleep here," he clarified softly. "Not since I came home that day. I need to get a new bed."

Relief replaced tension. Reid smiled at him and came closer. Almost cuddling. It struck Hotchner then that Reid hadn't minded when he profiled him. Had read him like a book. Haley had always hated it, saying "don't profile me, Aaron." With Reid, he had been relieved that Hotchner was able to tell what he was thinking so that he wouldn't have to voice the uncomfortable question. He smiled to himself, pleased at this revelation. He finished pulling out warm pajamas for Reid. A soft pair of flannel pj bottoms and a long sleeve t-shirt. Both items would keep Reid warm. Along with a blanket and Hotchner. He controlled the wolfish grin that tried to burst forth. He also controlled that damn demon that whispered how much fun it would be to divest Reid of this clothing. That wasn't happening tonight. Not if he wanted it to happen again. The demon acquiesced in favor of the happening again and again part.

Reid had taken the clothes with a quiet thank you and hurried off to the guest bathroom. To keep Reid from waiting, Hotchner made use of the master bath. He winced at the flowery motif of the room. This room would have to be redone as well. Minutes later he was clad in a pair of pj bottoms and prowling down the hallway. The guest bath was empty and Reid was nowhere to be seen. He found him in Jack's nursery. "Reid?"

"I'm really bad with children."

"That's all right. Not everyone is good with them." Hotchner wasn't sure where this was coming from or going to. He ran his mind over this situation but nothing explained why Reid was staring at the nursery, wrapped around himself. There was one thing he could tell him, "But anyone can learn. Especially geniuses." His tease didn't engender a reaction. Reid continued to stand and stare.

"You're a good father," Reid said unexpectedly.

"Thank you." Hotchner decided to take a leap and wrapped himself around Reid. The younger man relaxed into his arms but didn't look at him. When Reid didn't say any more, Hotchner tightened his arms. "Come to bed."

Reid nodded, his hair teasing Hotchner's cheek. The guest bedroom had been equipped with a double bed that barely fit the both of them. Reid made it easier by sliding into Hotchner's arms and curling completely around him. This would be so effortless to get use to. Hotchner feel asleep with that thought and a smile.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"So, how are we gonna find this guy?" Dean dumped his bag on the floor at the foot of the motel bed. This one was decorated in a red, white, and blue theme. Damn patriotic, Dean thought.

Sam sighed. "Go to sleep, Dean. I'm gonna do some research."

Dean gave his brother a hard look. Sam looked tired, but not more than usual because these visions were taking their toll, making him look tired all of the time. His long, light brown hair was limp and his hazel eyes no longer shone with enthusiasm. Since that first one that sent them here to DC, Sam had had two more. All about the same guy but all different. He guessed his brother had gotten enough from these visions to start his search. So, Dean nodded and started getting ready for bed, but all the while he watched his baby brother work on his laptop.

Settled on the bed, he still didn't sleep. He watched and waited. He gave Sam another hour, there to catch him when Sam nodded off and nearly slipped off the chair. He hoisted his taller brother into his arms. "C'mon, Sammy, time for bed."

"No, I--"

"Nuh uh, kid, it's bedtime." Dean got him into bed and his shoes off. The covers he had to wrestle out from underneath Sam's big body. Finally, he got him covered up. As he stood there, watching his brother sleep, he flashed back to when they were kids and he had to do this all the time. Sam would be slumped over his books or in front of the television and Dean would have to get him into bed. It was easier then, lifting his little brother into his arms. Then the brat had to go and grow taller than Dean by another four inches. But, Sam was still his little brother and it was his job to look after him. Even if the big lug was freaking huge.

Dean smoothed back Sam's hair, watched him for a few more minutes before shutting down his laptop and climbing into his own bed. Dean lay there, staring up at the ceiling. He knew he'd eventually fall asleep, wasn't worry about that. Instead, he worried about what having these visions meant for his little brother. All they could do, he knew, was deal with it when it all went to hell.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It really shouldn't have surprised Morgan that Reid answered Hotchner's door but it did. It also surprised him to see Reid answering the door in clothes that made him look like he stole his big brother's clothing. Or his larger lover's.

"Oh, hi." Reid was knuckling his eyes and yawning his words.

"Obviously somebody had a late night," Morgan joked, hoping what he had seen last night at the club was an aberration. Hoping that it was job related and had absolutely nothing to do with Reid answering Hotchner's door in too big sleepwear. He told himself Hotchner wouldn't do something like that. He told himself Reid wouldn't do something like that.

Reid gave him the evil eye and blushed but still let him in. "Hotch's in the kitchen. I'm getting dressed."

Morgan huffed laughter as he made his way into the kitchen, resolving not to think about it until he found or saw evidence. He found the female half of their team already there. They were gathered around the table while Hotchner was at the stove. "Morning."

"Hey, sweetcheeks. Have a seat." Garcia patted the chair next to her. Her blonde hair shone as brightly as the funky, chunky cat eyes glasses perched on her nose.

"Morning, baby." He kissed her ample, apple cheek and thanked Prentiss as she handed him a cup of coffee. "You guys see Reid?"

All three women grinned brilliantly.

"He was so cute," Garcia gushed. Prentiss and JJ both grinned and nodded.

"You three harridans leave him alone," Hotchner ordered as he dished up enough eggs to feed Godzilla.

"Aww, so sweet." Garcia smirked. "Protecting your man."

Hotchner gave her a look but she was completely unrepentant, as only Garcia could be. Morgan watched the interaction with trepidation. None of the others had seen what had gone on in the club. They'd all shown up after, when Plaken, the rapist, was holding Reid hostage. They never saw the way Hotchner had been devouring the kid. They hadn't seen the way Reid had all but climb up Hotchner's body during that kiss. They had seen Reid head straight for Hotchner's arms after walking out of the fire but then again, Reid had done the same thing when they found him after Henkel had held him hostage.

Morgan was seriously worried. He didn't see or hear Haley or Jack. Reid had answered the door in Hotchner's clothing. That meant Reid had to have spent the night here. But where was Haley? She would probably have something to say about having an unexpected guest at one in the morning. He wondered if Hotchner told his wife about kissing Reid. And where was Haley with a house full of guests? The doorbell heralded the arrival of Gideon and turned his attention back to what the girls were saying. JJ offered to get it and brought back not only Gideon but also a fully dressed Reid.

"Good morning," Gideon greeted, heading straight for the coffee.

"Good morning," Hotchner answered then waved towards the now completely filled table. "Help yourselves, everyone."

Everyone served themselves breakfast and started eating, china and silverware clicking were the only noise. The silence was both comfortable and uncomfortable. They were smiling and enjoying the food and each other's presence but they were all tiptoeing around the one subject they all wanted to talk about. And Morgan? He was not going to start this baby off.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"It's bad enough the city's filled with feds. Now we have to go to their spawnin' grounds?" Dean stared at the building with growing horror. It was the FBI headquarters. Suits and dark glasses continuously walked in and out of those doors like a giant clone factory. It freaked him out.

"The guy we're looking for is a federal agent. This is where they are." Sam explained in a tone that Dean knew meant his brother was losing his patience.

"How do you know he's a fed?" He leaned forward, trying to tell one agent from another. Half of the time he couldn't even tell if the agent clone was male or female. And that was a damn shame.

"In all of my dreams he's wearing a badge and a gun."

"How'd you rule out regular cops?"

"If he's one of the kids, he's way too young not to wear a uniform. He's gotta be special enough to be recruited by the federal government."

Say what he wanted, but Sam's logic was flawless. His timing on the other hand. "I'm starving. We couldn't wait until after breakfast?"

Sam groaned and glared. "Dean."

"No, really, I'm starving. My stomach's eatin' itself."

"Dean."

He could hear his brother rolling his eyes. "You keep watch, I'm gonna go get food."

Sam grunted.

Dean took it as consent and took off. It was only slightly annoying, how his little brother was so damn focused on meeting this other kid. Sam didn't know why, he just knew that being friends with the Human Torch was a serious priority on the to-do list. Ah, well, he would leave the friending to Sam while he kept both of them fed and in fighting form.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"After Henkel kidnapped me, I started feeling strange." Reid refused to look up from his plate, but he was determined to get this out now. His team needed to know and he felt bad enough keeping information about his mother from them, he didn't think he could lie to them about this, too. "I started dreaming about fire. About controlling it. Pretty soon I was lighting candles and manipulating the flames." He paused, waiting to see if anyone had any questions. When no one said anything, he continued. "I don't know how I can do this, I just can."

He stopped talking and concentrated fully on his food. He didn't have the nerve to look up at them. He was pretty sure they were having whole conversations over and around his head. He didn't mention the morphine addiction, didn't think it was worth mentioning. After all, it was so short lived, it never got a chance to affect his work. Not really.

"That is so awesome!"

His head jerked up at Garcia's outburst.

Her hands were making flappy motions, eyes wide and bright and staring right at him. "Show us!"

Reid's mouth dropped opened.

"Garcia," Gideon drawled. "He's not a performing monkey."

She instantly deflated, hands in her lap, eyes downcast. "I didn't mean it that way."

"We know you didn't, baby." Morgan was glaring Gideon but Gideon didn't notice because he was too busy studying Reid.

"Spencer," Gideon reached out, curling his hand around his wrist, "tell me exactly how you can control the fire."

Even with his encyclopedic knowledge, Reid couldn't find the words to answer his mentor's questions. Instead, he laid the hand Gideon wasn't holding palm up on the table. With a simple wish for a small ball of fire, it appeared in the palm of his hand.

Garcia squeaked, hands doing their flappy thing again.

Prentiss breathed, "Oh my God." Her dark eyes were glued to the fireball; her head was tilting this way and that, shiny dark hair sliding with the movement. Like she was trying to figure out how this was happening through the sheer power of observation.

"Holy shit." Morgan stared, eyes going between the fireball and Reid. His lips twitched. "Well, at least you won't need the whistle."

Reid rolled his eyes, remembering when he had failed his gun qualification and Morgan had teased him with the stupid toy. He played with the fireball, letting the flames run over the backs of his fingers like a quarter, as he remembered all of the time Hotchner spent with him before and after his shooting of the long distance sniper/serial killer, Dowd. Despite his frustration with his inability to accurately shoot a gun, he had immensely enjoyed all of his boss' attention. It was one of the few times they had spent together, alone, without the distraction of others. Just like earlier this morning. His cheeks still burned at the memory of waking up in Hotchner's arms, curled around his big, warm body.

He still couldn't quite process everything that was happening between the two of them. He had always been attracted to Hotchner, first by dark good looks, then by the man himself. Hotchner was so very self-contained, so self-controlled that Reid always felt safe with him. He wasn't like Reid's father, who couldn't handle pressure; Hotchner thrived under even the threat of death. He wasn't like Reid's mother, whose illness left her out of control; Hotchner was everything controlled. Even his sexual urges were kept in check, letting Reid relax, letting him accept and take things at his own pace. It helped tremendously. It boded well for them and it made Reid happy.

"I don't know how I do it," Reid answered Gideon's earlier question as he continued to play with the flames, enlarging then shrinking them. "I wish it into being; I direct it with my mind."

"Wow, you really can kill with your brain." JJ's quip startled a bubble of laughter out of him. She winked at him; he smiled back. Falling in love with JJ would have been so very easy, with her all American blonde hair, blue eyed good looks. But he was pathetically grateful for her friendship instead; she made him laugh, she cared for him like a big sister. Like Morgan, the tormenting but protective older brother.

"Does it hurt, Spencer? Have you noticed any drawbacks to using it?"

Reid nibbled his lip, shaking his head at Hotchner's question. He couldn't quite meet the other man's eyes, still embarrassed by his reactions to waking up with him this morning. He had woken up with an erection, rubbing it into the groove of Hotchner's hip. Horrified upon fully wakening, he had elbowed and kneed Hotchner with his eagerness to get out of the humiliating situation. Thankfully, Hotchner had simply gathered him close, letting Reid feel his gentle smile in their kiss. But it was still embarrassing as hell.

"Do you want help stopping this?" Gideon asked, but the look on his face already knew Reid's answer. After all, a father, even a pseudo one, knew his son.

Reid didn't say anything, letting the silence hang over the table. He fought with himself: did he want to admit it? Admit the weakness that the fire had driven out? "No," he finally answered definitively. "It hasn't hurt me; I can control it so it doesn't hurt anyone else." He laughed weakly. "And since I still can't use a gun correctly . . ."

Little laughs, relieved smiles, and encouraging grins settled his nerves.

~*~*~*~*~*~

They sat in the Impala nearly all day. A little after lunch, Sam spotted him. He shot out of the car and across the street. He heard Dean get out of the car but he didn't feel his brother behind him as he crossed the street. Probably thought it would be best not to overwhelm the guy with both of their presences. Thankfully, the other man was walking slowly, lost in thought, giving Sam time to catch up. But before he could catch up with him though, shouting made both of them stop.

"Reid!"  
"Spencer!"  
"Reid!"

Sam kept walking, passing the guy he now knew was named some combination of Spencer and Reid. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw two blondes and a black guy catching up with him. The other man smiled as he waited for them. With that many people, there was no way he could approach the other guy. He watched as the three newcomers fussed and fretted over his target. He wondered what that was all about but rejoined Dean in the car.

"We'll wait for him at his place."

"You got his name?" Dean started up the car and pulled out into traffic, heading towards their motel.

"Yeah, his friends were yelling it."

They were silent on the ride back. Dean turned on the television as soon as they got into the room, leaving Sam to his laptop and more research. This time, he had a possible name to go along with the occupation. It took him only a couple of tries to find out that the guy's name was Spencer Reid, PhD and profiler. He searched the web and found news stories regarding the young FBI agent. He was also able to find Reid's current address. A few hours later, he and Dean were parked in front of that address, waiting for Reid to come home.

Sam jumped when Dean hit him.

"Ain't that our boy?"

Sam nodded, starting to get out of the car but caught Dean before he could get out. "Let me do the talking and try to look harmless."

Dean snorted.

Sam rolled his eyes and got out of the car in time catch Reid before he went up the steps. "Agent Reid?"

The other man stopped and turned around but didn't go for his gun. Sam reflected on how different Reid was from him and his brother; they would have gone for their guns the second somebody they didn't know called their names. Especially so late at night. Instead, Reid was calmly waiting for him at the top of the steps. His hands, Sam noticed, were relaxed, by his sides. Remembering his fiery dreams, Sam figured, Reid didn't need his gun.

"Yes?"

"Agent Reid, my name is Sam. That's my brother Dean." He hitched a thumb in Dean's direction. "I'd like to talk to you."

Reid waited without saying anything. It didn't look like he was going to give Sam an inch.

"Have you noticed anything . . . new? Anything unusual happening?" Okay, so, that was really kind of vague. But really? Asking a man, who studied the hard sciences like math, physics, and engineering, to believe in the supernatural was always a crap shoot.

"I'm sorry," Reid answer, inching closer to his building's door. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Sam could see it: Reid was going to bolt as fast as his gangly legs could carry him. "You're a pyrokinetic." He watched as emotions cascaded over Reid's face: shock, suspicion, interest. He'd known he would get the profiler with that last one. "It manifested a while ago, right?"

Reid nodded slowly, hands twisting, clutching, the strap of his messenger bag. His eyes darted to Dean to find him still leaning nonchalantly against the Impala. The other man wanted to know more but was clearly wary of them. Sam figured it had to do with being kidnapped and tortured by the serial killer, Hankel.

"Do you want to know why all of a sudden you've got this power?" Sam could practically felt the battle Reid fought with himself. "Look," he wanted to make this as easy as possible, instincts screaming that he needed the trust of this man, "why don't we go to the diner and talk?"

The diner was to their left, filled enough to give Reid a sense of security but empty enough for a modicum of privacy.

"Food, hell yeah!"

Leave it to Dean to focus on the really important issues. Sam rolled his eyes. But his brother's exclamation and Sam's suggestion worked wonders for Reid's comfort levels. So did Sam following Dean to the diner, only glancing back every once in a while to make sure Reid followed them. Once in the diner, Sam pulled up a chair to the end of the booth. He left it for Reid, giving him the easiest-to-escape-from position at the table. He slid in opposite from his brother. His actions further engendered Reid's trust, he could see it in the other man's minutely more relaxed body language. They waited for the waitress to take their orders before trying to start this conversation.

"Why?" Reid asked finally, studying one then the other brother, picking up the thread of conversation for the first time.

"A demon wants your soul."

Oh yeah, leave it to Dean. Sam kicked him.

"Dude!"

Sam glared at him, hoping Dean wouldn't add any more of his too informative tidbits. He cleared his throat, turning his attention back to a wide-eyed Reid. "Twenty-two years ago, a demon spilled his blood on several six month old babies. The blood marked them, gave them powers."

"But?" Reid prompted.

It didn't surprise Sam because the guy was a profiler. "But it also attracts trouble, tragedy, to our lives."

That was true for the most of the children they'd met. Ava had been the only exception, but with her fiancé's death and her disappearance, it now held true for them all. They fell silent again as the waitress set down their orders. Dean immediately dug in. Sam went through the motions of preparing his burger and fries, giving Reid the time to absorb the information.

"Why?" Reid repeated. "Why would a demon do that? Why me?"

"We don't know why," Sam answered honestly. "We only know it's happening."

"And how do you know that?" Reid picked at his meatloaf and mashed potatoes – comfort food.

Sam glanced at Dean, who shrugged, leaving it up to him. "I'm one of the kids, too. And we've been hunting the demon."

Reid nodded like he'd just said the sky was blue.

"He killed our parents and my fiancée," Sam felt compelled to add.

That froze the FBI profiler. "Are my family and friends in danger?"

Sam consulted with his brother again; a whole conversation in a meeting of eyes.

"Yeah," Dean answered for them both. "Yeah, he'll go after them."

"Is there anything that will protect them?" Reid was surprisingly calm and logical about this. Sam felt the need to point that out. The other man simply shrugged. "There's no logical, scientific explanation for my abilities." He stared out of the diner window. "You seem to know what to do. Hysterics won't help. I can't lose my mom or my friends."

Sam and Dean both nodded slowly, completely understanding how the other young man felt.

"So, your mom's in Vegas, right?"

It was obvious Dean surprised Reid with the question. "Yeah," he answered, wary again.

Dean's head bobbed as he thought.

"Bobby and Ellen?" Sam offered, knowing Dean would not want them splitting up, even to protect a helpless psychiatric patient.

"Yeah." Dean relaxed at an option he liked.

"Friends of ours," Sam explained to Reid. "They can set protection sigils on and around your mom."

"I'll tell the doctors to expect them," Reid offered in return.

"Yeah, that'll help." Sam started in on his burger as Reid and Dean made their calls. Dinner passed quietly after that, Reid asking them the occasional question regarding the hunting of supernatural threats. Sam got the impression Reid wanted to ask a whole lot more -- a scientist, a profiler -- would. But he restrained himself for some reason. Maybe he wasn't comfortable enough yet. Sam knew they were going to have to get comfortable with each other, whether they liked it or not. His prophet's dreams, his hunter's instincts, they both screamed at him that Reid was important to his and Dean's futures.

"You're taking this really well," Sam was compelled to comment. "Finding out that the things that go bump in the night are real." They were surprised by the whimsical smile Reid bestowed on them.

"Halloween's always been my favorite holiday."

"Right on!" Dean held out a fist, obviously wanting Reid to punch his knuckles. Sam hid his smile when Reid simply looked at him curiously. Dean rolled his eyes, murmuring something like "nerd" as he dropped his hand, including Sam in that pseudo-insult with a smirk.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~  
~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Chapter Three

 

Hotchner grinned at the young man on the other side of his door. "Reid."

"Hi. Uhm, could I come in?"

Hotchner held open the door, sweeping Reid in. They hadn't had a private moment together since this morning and Hotchner was alternatively anxious and anticipating when it came to seeing Reid again. It would seem Reid was as well. His elegant hands couldn't stay still, fiddling with his messenger bag, sweeping his hair behind his ears, and plucking at the hem of his sweater. But Reid never stopped staring at Hotchner's mouth. He smiled, watching Reid watch the movement of his lips. "Hi."

"Uhm, hi."

Hotchner idly wondered if kissing Reid would make the situation better or worse. "Hungry?"

"Uhm, no. I just ate, actually." Reid's hands were fluttering even more now, as if the mention of food brought more agitation.

"Spencer, what's wrong?" He moved closer to the younger man, crowding into his personal space. Just as he expected, Reid calmed, moving closer as well. "Spencer?"

"Two men were waiting for me at home," he confessed.

"What?" Hotchner ran gentle but hurried hands over Reid's body, eyes carefully studying him. "Are you all right? Did they hurt you?"

Reid shook his head, hair coming out from behind his ears to caress his jaw line.

Hotchner took advantage of their closeness, fingering that hair before cupping Reid's smooth cheek. "Who were they? What did they want?"

Reid nuzzled into his hand, his own hands coming up and fluttering against Hotchner's t-shirt before landing softly against his chest. "Sam and Dean Winchester. They knew about my pyrokinesis."

"What did they say? Did they want something?" Hotchner brought his other hand up, pulling off the messenger bag that was the only thing separating them. Once it was on the floor, he wrapped his arm around Reid, bringing them body to body. Reid shivered but melted against him, showing him trust and want with that simple action.

Reid clutched at him, eyes never leaving his as he explained their conversation, explained about the demon, and what it wanted. Explained how the Winchesters were sending someone to protect his mother and how he was worried about everyone else on the team.

"Spencer, breathe." Hotchner watched as Reid did as ordered, calming once more. Demons, good God. Hotchner thought their plates were full with just human monsters, now demons were after them too? He wished he could just dismiss this out of hand, but Reid was controlling fire, calling it up out of thin air. He couldn't dismiss this, not until they knew what they were up against. "I'll call Morgan and tell him to call everyone else. What did the Winchesters say about how to protect ourselves?"

Reid shook his head, eyes wide. "I can call them. Sam gave me his number."

Hotchner nodded but didn't let him go when he tried to reach for his bag. Reid settled back into his arms as if he wasn't inclined to leave them in the first place. "Do you trust them?" Hotchner felt it was only right to ask the question in the face of everything that had happened. It made him feel immeasurably better that Reid didn't answer right away; the other man's brow was furrowed with thought. Eventually, he nodded.

"From their body language and word choice, I think it would be a mistake not to trust them."

Hotchner mimicked Reid's nod but was compelled to add, "I want to run a check on them anyway."

Reid smiled at him, the corner of his mouth lifting in a way that conveyed his knowledge that Hotchner would do so regardless of whichever way he had answered. But that would have to wait until tomorrow. "Would you like to stay here tonight?"

Reid stared at him; Hotchner was afraid he had overstepped his bounds, was going too fast for the other man. But Reid nodded shyly, sighing as if a heavy burden had been lifted from him as he dropped his head on Hotchner's shoulder. He guided him upstairs and into the bedroom they had shared the night before. It didn't surprise Hotchner one bit that Reid stopped at the doorway and stared at the bed. He wrapped himself around Reid, propping his chin on a sweater vest-covered shoulder. "Spencer--"

"I want to know," he whispered, turning in Hotchner's arms. Graceful fingers slid up his jaw to cup his face. Reid stared up at him with those eyes. "I want to know what it's like . . . but only with you."

With those soft words, with those begging eyes, Hotchner knew exactly what Reid was telling him. He would be the slow and attentive teacher; Reid, the novice who needed to be coaxed and seduced. Hotchner firmly admonished the urges demanding to take what was theirs hard and fast. Hard and fast would definitely have to wait. He took Reid's clothes off, piece at a time, letting Reid do the same to his. Hotchner ran his hands up a smooth, slim back, relishing the erotic rub of Reid's body against his own.

Reid's breath was hitching, hands clutching his shoulders, hips unconsciously moving, sliding his pretty, pretty cock against Hotchner's. It was making Hotchner a little insane. Time turned syrup slow then; a blur of hands and mouths, exploring each other, encouraging one another. Every innocent touch from Reid spurred him on, made him want to lose control, to let go of the reins on his demons and take what was his right. But those eyes, trust shining in their hazel depths, stopped him, helped him hold his desires at bay. Made it easier to savor, to enjoy, his new lover.

He enjoyed the way Reid spread his legs, encouraging Hotchner into the cradle of long thighs. He loved the way Reid stared at him in open mouth astonishment when he took his cock into his mouth. Savored the little movements of Reid's hips, enticing him to do more, to take more. Hotchner obliged, coating his fingers with the silky lubricant. He bit his lip and grabbed his cock to stop himself from coming at the sight of Reid wantonly riding his fingers. When he couldn't watch a moment longer, he lined up his cock at Reid's opening, inching his way inside the sweetest body he had ever known. Hotchner's groan rumbled from the depths of his body. The heat encasing his cock sent sensation ricocheting through his entire being. "Spencer--"

"You feel, oh God." His lover cooed, wrapping long legs around his hips, seating Hotchner even more fully inside.

"Oh fuck," he hissed. The damn demons demanded harder, faster, now. He ruthlessly yanked on their chains even as he slowly, reluctantly, dragged himself back out of Reid's mind-blowing body.

"Aaron, take me." Reid's whisper into his ear was his undoing.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Think he believed us?" Dean asked as he sacked out on his chosen bed.

"Yeah." Sam booted up his laptop.

"Still don't know why we need him to believe us?"

"Nope." Out of the corner of his eye, Sam watched as his brother settled into bed for the night. He didn't mimic Dean, not even really thinking about going to bed even though he was tired as hell. He planned to work on his laptop, hunting down everything he could about the Yellow Eyed Demon, until he fell asleep at this table. But he knew when he woke up, he would be tucked into his bed. Dean took care of him. He always did.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hotchner smiled down at Reid, still buried amongst the pillows and blankets of their bed. All he could see was the long, elegant arm that had been draped across his chest when he woke that morning. He flicked the end of the sheet off Reid's head, leaning over to nuzzle a soft cheek before heading downstairs. Breakfast was definitely in order.

He frowned when he took in his bare pantry and refrigerator. Sighing, he headed back upstairs to get dress so he could go hunt down some food for them both. He left notes for Reid, one taped to the lamp next to the bed and another on his cell phone, just in case, not wanting the younger man to think he'd been abandoned. It took only minutes to go down to the tiny corner market that was owned by one of his neighbors. "Good morning, Mr. Hadley."

"Aaron." The snow white haired man was old enough to retire but was too spry to, shook his hand and grinned. "You're lookin' good, my boy." Mr. Hadley wiggled his brows. "Have something to do with that nice lookin' young man who's been comin' around?"

"Maybe." Hotchner grinned and rolled his eyes even as Mr. Hadley chuckled in delight. He knew that, within a matter of hours, everyone in the neighborhood would know about him and Reid. Mr. Hadley and his wife were notorious gossips and voyeurs. They always knew what was going on in the neighborhood. They were the ones who had clued him in on Haley's extramarital activities; disapproving of her cheating on him while he was away "catching the bad guys" as Mrs. Hadley had said.

Shopping for breakfast took him all of fifteen minutes. The Hadleys had a little of everything, making them ideal for when you only need a few things and didn't want to run all the way down to the bigger chain markets. He waved goodbye to Mr. Hadley after being rung up. He had only been gone thirty minutes and hoped that Reid wasn't awake yet. The food-filled bags dropped to the floor the minute Hotchner stepped through his front door.

Scorch marks marred the wall where the staircase went upstairs. Parts of the banister bore the marks of flames. Some of them were still smoking. Not for one second did Hotchner think Reid's powers were out of control. Something had happened for Reid to use his powers in his home.

"SPENCER!"

~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean jerked awake, instantly turning to the bed next to his. It was empty. He jerked to his feet, grabbing his gun from under his pillow. The keys to the Impala were still on the nightstand. He didn't bother with shoes as he grabbed them and his phone. He pushed the speed dial for his brother but the answering ring was on the table next to Sam's laptop. Sam never went anywhere without his phone. He hit the other preprogrammed number.

"What?"

"Bobby, it's Dean. Something's happen to Sam."

 

~*~*~*~*~*~  
~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Chapter Four

Sam jerked awake and to his feet, staring uncomprehendingly at the landscape the stretched around him. Abandoned buildings lined the street, the overcast skies making the sad buildings even more depressing. The street was the only thing left of the town, the rest swallowed by the desolate lands surrounding it. He had absolutely no idea where he was. He was in the clothing he had fallen asleep in: jeans and a long sleeve sweater. He was thankful the weather was mild, not relishing the idea of these clothes in the cold.

He moved into the town, eyes squinting as he searched the few buildings left. He knew Dean wasn't here. Whatever instincts that flared from the prophetic dreams told him this was it. This was the culmination of the Yellow Eyed Demon's plan. He still had no idea what that plan was, but he sure as hell wasn't helping that bastard. A creak broke the silence, freezing Sam in his tracks. He quickly reached for a wooden plank, raising it up high. Stopped his downward swing just in time. "Andy?"

Andy Gallagher jerked in surprise, then slumped in relief. "Sam! What are you doing here?"

"I don't know." He dropped the plank, resuming his exploration of the town. Andy dodged his heels the whole way. The other man was just as Sam remembered: the epitome of a good natured, weed smoking, slacker. Andy's short, dark brown hair was a mess, his dark eyes were still a little blood shot from lack of sleep, and his clothes were rumpled from living out of his van.

"What am I doing here?!" he exclaimed.

"I don't know." Okay, he was a little tense. Andy would just have to forgive him.

"Where are we?!"

Sam sighed, turning to the other man. "Andy, look, calm down."

"I can't calm down! I just woke up in freaking Frontierland!" He was waving his arms at the buildings, eyes wild and expression still freaked as hell.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Sam hoped getting Andy focused would help him calm down.

"Honestly? My fourth bong load. It was weird. All of a sudden, there was this really intense smell. Like, uh…" Andy trailed off, face scrunching, trying to remember.

"Like sulfur?" he guessed.

"How did you know that?" Andy stared up at him in awe and a little trepidation.

"Dean," Sam answered, remembering how he had whiff of the chemical in his sleep. He wondered if his brother had smelt it, too.

"Your brother -- is he here?" Andy looked hopeful. Probably thought the more people he knew, the safer it would be.

Sam shook his head but held up his finger to indicate the need for silence. The hairs on the back of his neck were up and tingling. He picked up another plank, surprised when Andy did the same. He swung this time, yelping as the plank burst into flames.

"Sam!"

He dropped the flaming plank, looking up into Reid's scared eyes. "Spencer!"

Reid stared up at him, eyes as freaked as Andy's but his expression was a hell of a lot calmer. "He took me from Hotch's house. I tried to fight him but. . . ." He trailed off, rubbing his arms through the shirt Sam had last seen him in. "I hope Hotch is okay. I hope he's not worrying."

Sam awkwardly patted Reid's shoulder. "Dean's probably tearing his hair out."

Andy looked away. Sam felt bad, knowing Andy didn't have anyone worrying about him out there. Screaming derailed his need to apologize to Andy. The three of them exchanged glances before taking off at a run towards the cries. The source of the feminine screams came from an old outhouse, the door banging against its lock and hinges from the inside.

"Hello?" Sam called out, carefully examining the door, trying to figure out how to get her out of there. Her voice seemed familiar somehow.

"Help me! Help me, please!" she cried out.

"Okay, I'm here. We're gonna get you out, all right? Just hold on a second." He found a rock, heading for it.

"Please!"

"All right, one second." The cumbersome rock was a horrible hammer but it was working. Smash after smash was weakening the metal.

"You know, I could've melted the lock or burn a hole through the wall," Reid interjected dryly.

"Please!" she screamed again.

Sam glared over his shoulder at him before bringing the rock down once more. When the lock gave way, he dropped the rock to get it off the door. The door opened. "Ava?"

The little, pretty brunette grabbed his arms, flinging herself into his arms, sobbing, clutching, hysterical. "Oh my God! Sam!"

"So, I guess you guys know each other," Andy said facetiously, eyeing them both.

"Yeah," Sam sighed, patting her back, trying to comfort the young woman.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Reid hid a smile as he watched Sam trying his awkward best to calm the young woman he had called Ava. It was obvious that Sam knew both her and the other man with them. They both seemed to look to him for guidance and comfort. Honestly, he did as well. His FBI training was keeping him calm and alert, ready for whatever was thrown at them next, but that didn't stop him from looking to Sam for the same things.

"How did you -- I mean, how did you --"Ava was saying.

"Ava, have you been here this whole time?" Sam asked.

Reid noticed how he even though he was looking at her, Sam was still aware of his surroundings. He was battle ready, Reid realized. It made him tense, taking his hands out of his pockets, keeping them ready as well.

"What whole time? I just woke up in there, like, half an hour ago."

Reid kept his peace when he heard the false note in her answer. He flicked his eyes over Sam. It was obvious the other man believed her, but then again, he wasn't trained like Reid to read nuances like her eyes cutting away from Sam's when she answered. It might have been her looking at her prison, but Reid didn't think so. Her words rang fictitious to his profiler's ears.

"Well, you've been gone for five months. My brother and I have been looking for you everywhere," Sam countered her, flipping his watch. It must have had the date as well as time because Ava was shaking her head.

"Okay, that's impossible, because I saw you two days ago."

Sam shook his head. "You didn't. I'm sorry. "

"But . . . that makes no sense. That's not -- oh my God! My fiancée, Brady! If I've been missing for that long, he must be freaking out!"

Reid instantly knew something had to happen to the fiancée because Sam's face didn't hide a thing.

"Well …"

Sam was saved from having to give her bad news as Ava noticed him and the other guy.

"Hey. Andy. Also freaking out," the other guy, Andy, said, introducing himself with an awkward wave.

"I'm Spencer," he said, mimicking the wave. He thought it would be best to keep the fact that he was an FBI profiler to himself. He gave Sam what he hoped was a significant look. Sam gave him a tiny nod that made him relax.

Ava nodded at them both before turning back to Sam. "Okay. What's happening?"

Sam shook his head, eyes scanning their environment and then the bleak landscape. "I don't really know yet. But I know one thing: I know what the four of us have in common."

"Hello? Is anybody there?"

They all turned at the sound of another man's shout coming from deeper in the dilapidated town.

"Maybe more than four," Sam corrected himself.

Reid followed him, they all did, having decided then and there that Sam was the one person he could trust. He didn't know Andy or Ava but he could read them. He might not know everything about them but he did know that Andy was a follower and that Ava was a liar. If he wanted to get out of here alive and back into Hotchner's arms, Sam was his best bet. He skidded to a halt when Sam did, carefully studying the two newcomers. A black man, dressed in desert fatigues, and a blonde woman, gothic dark. He strode forward with confidence tempered by confusion. She curled around herself, projecting "keep away" as loudly as if she had screamed it from the rooftops.

"Hello? Hey!" Sam called out to them. "Hey, you guys all right?"

The black man nodded slowly, his soldier's eyes carefully taking them in. "I think so."

"I'm Sam," he offered.

"I'm Jake."

"Lily." She didn't wave, she didn't even move closer to the group. In fact, she pulled her sleeves over her hands even more securely, as if she didn't want to accidently touch anyone.

"Are there anymore of you?" Sam asked.

Jake shook his head. "No."

"How did we even get here?" Lily asked, stepping forward but still keeping her distance. "A minute ago, I was in San Diego."

Jake huffed out a strained laugh. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I went to sleep last night in Afghanistan."

Sam nodded as if he knew or understood. But then again, Reid figured, he did. The last time he had seen Sam, they were both in Washington DC. "Let me take a wild guess: you two are both twenty-three?"

They nodded, coming closer, being drawn to Sam because he was confident and obviously knew something, had some kind of answer. People were drawn to that kind of personality.

Sam mimicked their nods, waving to indicate himself and the rest of them. "We all are. And we all have abilities."

"What?" Jake demanded but Reid could tell he knew exactly what Sam was talking about.

"It started a little over a year ago? You found you could do things? Things you didn't think were possible?" Sam paused as the other two nodded again. "I have visions. I see things before they happen."

"Yeah." Ava chimed in. "Me, too."

"Yeah, and I can put thoughts into people's heads. Like, make them do stuff." Andy enthusiastically announced but must have seen the wary looks on everyone's faces because he immediately tried to reassure them. "But don't worry, I don't think it works on you guys. Oh, but get this -- I've been practicing. Training my brain, like meditation. So now, it's not just thoughts I can beam out, but images, too. Like, anything I want. Bam! People see it. This one guy I know -- total dick, right? I used it on him: gay porn. All hours of the day." He was waving his hands and laughing like it was the best practically joke ever invented. "It was just like…you should have seen the look on his face." Then he saw all of their faces and realized they weren't laughing. "Uh…okay."

Honestly, Reid did not want to give away any advantage he had, surrounded by people he didn't know or trust, even Sam. But not sharing his powers would make him stand out. "I start fires," he said simply, not including the fact that he could control all fire, even ones he hadn't started himself.

Lily startled them all with a harsh bark of bitter-filled laughter. "So, you go, 'Simon says give me your wallet,' and they do?" she said to Andy, then turned to Sam. "You have visions? That's great! I'd kill for something like that."

"Lily, listen, it's okay," Sam tried to placate her, hands held up and reaching for her, probably to offer comfort like he did with Ava.

Lily jerked away from him. "No! It's not. I touch people? Their hearts stop. I can barely leave my house. My life's not exactly improved. So, screw you. I just wanna go home." She whispered the last part, drawing back on herself.

"And what, we don't?" Jake sneered, taking an aggressive step forward, fists clenched.

"You know what? Don't talk to me like that --" Lily loosened one of her death grip on one of her sleeves. It was a telling move on both their parts.

Sam tried to play the peacemaker again. "Hey, guys, please. Look, whether we like it or not, we're all here, and so we all have to deal with this."

Andy looked up at Sam, face scrunched in bewilderment. "Who brought us here?"

Sam's face kind of fell, as if he really didn't want to explain, but was going to anyway. "It's less of a 'who.' It's more of a 'what.'"

"What does that mean?" Ava demanded.

It surprised Reid when Sam gave him a look. The look was something of an apology almost. "It's a demon."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hotchner sucked in a deep breath when he heard his team's cars pull up to the house. He needed to be calm and collected in front of the others but he what he wanted to do was to rage over the loss of his lover. He had called the team as soon as a search of the house had not turned up Reid but hadn't done much more than that. It was as if he was paralyzed, recognizing the fact that he was too close, too emotionally involved. More so than when Reid had been taken by Henkel. But there was no way in hell he was going to let anyone else handle Reid's disappearance. Especially not with the scorch marks on his walls. In order for Reid to have used his unusual powers at all, it had to be something supernatural. Reid's revolver was still on the nightstand; he would have grabbed it if it had been a human attacker.

"Hotch!" Morgan called through the door.

"It's open!" Hotchner didn't bother getting up from his perusal of the contents of Reid's bag. He had neatly spread out the items, being careful not to damage his lover's things. It had been as far as he had gotten before the emotional paralysis had set in. He hoped that the presence of his familial team would kick start his brain.

"Hotch, what happened?" Gideon asked, sitting down next to him on the couch, hand on his arm.

"I went to the market. When I came back, Reid was gone." He waved his hand at Reid's bag, then at the scorch marks. "His bag was still here and there were signs of a struggle. And the burns." He heard Morgan's heavy footsteps going up the stairs. The women of his team surrounded him.

Prentiss was leaning over, examining Reid's things, too. "Anything useful?"

"Two men talked to Reid last night, they knew about his pyrokinesis and how he came by the power. He said their names were Sam and Dean Winchester." He told them everything Reid had told him. He was pretty sure he got everything but he did not have Reid's eidetic memory. Hotchner held up a crumpled piece of paper. "I think this is Sam's number."

"Have you tried it?" JJ asked, reaching for the paper.

Hotchner nodded, seeing Morgan coming back down the stairs. "There's no answer."

"I'll get Garcia on it," she said, taking the paper while pulling out her phone.

"Reid spent the night here?"

Hotchner turned to stare at Morgan and his casually asked question. Too casual. "Yes."

"In your bed?" Morgan dropped all pretence of casual, getting in Hotchner's face.

Hotchner never back down from Morgan's accusing eyes but he could feel the surprised reactions of the others around him. He prepared himself for whatever consequences came from his answer. "Yes, he did."

"You bastard!"

Hotchner wasn't expecting Morgan's fist. He barely jerked back in time. "Morgan!"

"You're fuckin' married! I'm not gonna let you go messin' with the kid's heart like that!"

"Morgan, I'm not--"

"Liar!"

"Morgan!"  
"Derek!"

Gideon, Prentiss, and JJ all got between him and the still raging Morgan. A part of Hotchner was glad Reid had such a good friend. The other part of him was yelling at himself for not telling them sooner.

"I'm divorced," he yelled. It froze them all. One by one they all turned to face him. He took another deep breath. This would be so much easier with Reid here but they had to get past this to get him back. "Haley and I have been separated for a while now. I just signed the papers."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Gideon asked gently but the rebuke of _this wouldn't have happened if you had _rang clearly.

Hotchner stared at him, not wanting to shut out his friend and mentor, but doing it all the same. "It wasn't any of your business."

Gideon didn't react other than to shrewdly study him but the others? They had hurt expressions. Morgan still looked pissed, actually. Hotchner sighed. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. I just . . ."

"We looked to you as a role model," Gideon diagnosed. "You do the job and have a family. Something for all of us to emulate. To give us hope that we too could do it all."

Hotchner saw no reason to deny it, so he nodded.

Morgan held his peace, looking extremely uncomfortable before his face cleared, contrition taking its place. "I'm sorry, man."

He gave Morgan a tight smile, patting him on the shoulder. "It's all right. Thanks for looking out for him."

Morgan grinned, pointing a finger at him. "You treat him good, you hear me?'

"Yeah." For some unfathomable reason, Hotchner felt shy all of a sudden.

"And I don't want to hear a single thing about your sex lives."

"Morgan!" Prentiss yelped in shocked outrage. JJ was flapping one hand while the other was firmly clamped over her mouth.

Hotchner smirked. "Why? Jealous?"

Morgan rolled his eyes.

"Children," Gideon hrrmphed, glaring but with a small smile playing on his lips. "Reid?"

That instantly sobered the group.

"There's nothing." Hotchner indicated the house. "I've searched but there aren't any tracks or even signs that someone else was here. I think we're looking at something supernatural."

JJ's phone rang, stalling any response. "Garcia, wait, let me put you on speaker phone."

The information analyst filled them on everything the FBI had on the Winchester, all four of them. The mother's death, the father's, and the FBI file as thick as a dictionary on the two boys. They tossed theories around that involved the Winchesters abducting Reid but nothing really fit and it was conjecture anyway.

Finally, Garcia said, "The phone number is registered to an Alex V. Halen. Wow, that's not a fake name at all."

"Garcia, check for any other phone with the name--"

"Already did, sugar. I have one Eddie V. Halen and an E.V. Halen. E.V.'s number was registered at the same time as Alex's. Ready for it?"

"Go ahead, Garcia." Hotchner pulled his phone out, punching in the numbers as Garcia read them out. He knew she would be ready to trace the call.

"Sam?"

"Hello, no, I'm not Sam, my name is Aaron. I'm a friend of Spencer Reid. Your brother gave Spencer his number." Hotchner decided not to identify himself as FBI. The Winchester brothers were using fake names for a reason and especially with what Garcia had just told them, identifying himself as a law enforcement officer might scare them away before Garcia could get a lock.

"Yeah."

"Spencer's missing. Is he with you?"

"No."

"Do you have any idea where he is? Maybe your brother knows? I tried his number but no one's answering."

"Wait a minute. How'd you get my number?"

Shit. Hotchner talked fast. "I have a friend at the phone company. She did a little digging and found your number." He laughed, making it as rueful sounding as possible. "She wouldn't even give me your number, she just connected us."

"Sorry, man, I don't know where your friend is." Winchester hung up.

Hotchner clenched his fist around his phone. "Garcia?"

"I've narrowed down the area but didn't get a lock."

"Damnit!" Morgan ran frustrated hands through his nonexistent hair.

Prentiss jumped up. "Wait, wait!" She turned to Hotchner. "Reid said they just arrived, right?" When he nodded, she leaned over to speak into JJ's phone. "Garcia, can you search through the motels in that area? See if there are any receipts or records under another obviously fake name?"

"Yeah, give me a minute. I've got a D. Hasselhoff at the Blue Lagoon Motel on 88th. And a P. Rudd at the Lazy Eye Inn on 98th."

"Which one of them has the shortest credit history?" Hotchner asked.

"D. Hasselhoff."

Hotchner grabbed his gun. "That's them."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"This is it." Bobby Singer spread out a map over the hotel bed. The older, graying man had made amazing time from his hunt in Ohio to the DC area after Dean called him in the twilight morning hours. "All demonic signs and omens over the past month."

"Are you joking?" Dean stared down at the map. "There's nothing here."

"Exactly." Bobby waved his hand over the map, obviously frustrated as well. He jerked off his trucker's cap, running weathered hands through short, grizzled hair. His still sharp eyes went back to the map.

"Well, come on, there's gotta be something. What about the normal, low-level stuff? You know, exorcisms, that kind of thing."

Bobby glared at him, obviously not liking the fact that Dean was questioning his conclusions. "That's what I'm telling you: there's nothing. It's completely quiet."

Dean wanted to apologize to man who had been like a father to him and Sam after their father's death but the worry and anxiety choked him. He had to focus on finding his brother, it was the only thing he could do. Focusing meant getting and staying mad, sarcastic. "Well, how are we supposed to look for Sam? What, do we just close our eyes and point?"

He had the grace to duck when Bobby gave him The Look but was saved from what had to be a scathing reply by a knock on the door. They immediately looked at each, both shaking their heads. No way would Sam knock and neither of them was expecting anyone. Arming themselves to the teeth in the seconds it took for the visitor to knock again, Dean waited until Bobby secreted himself behind the door. "Who is it?"

"It's Aaron, Dean."

Shit, fuck, damn. He knew he shouldn't have fallen for the damn friend at the damn phone company line. "How'd you find me? Your friend at the phone company?"

"Actually, she works at the FBI." A heartbeat of silence. "So do I."

Bobby was glaring at him, the silence on the other side of the door was deafening and his baby brother had been taken from him. Dean's life just didn't get any shitter than this.

"I know about Hendrickson's file on you."

Shitter and shitter. "Yeah, and?"

"I don't think he's right about you."

Dean had to raise an eyebrow at that. "Why not?"

"Because all of the deaths you're accused of stopped after you got there. Some of them had been going on for months before you were even spotted in the area."

Dean had to strain to hear the next part.

"And Spencer trusted you and your brother. I trust Spencer."

Yeah, okay, that sold him more than anything else the guy said. He reached for the lock.

"Dean," Bobby hissed. "You sure, kid?"

Dean took a second, thinking about how Sam was adamant on gaining Spencer Reid's trust. That some way, somehow, Reid was important to the two of them. He remembered the gangly kid, only months older than his baby brother, who had stared at them wide-eyed and logically accepting. He remembered how Reid was worried about his friends and family. Surely, the guy on the other side of the door was one of those friends. Had to be if he was out here on a Saturday, searching for Reid. "Yeah," he told Bobby, "I do."

Bobby huffed but reluctantly nodded. He also didn't move from his spot and Dean knew better than to give away his position, just in case.

The door swung open to reveal a whole group of people. Sam had said Reid worked with a group called the Behavioral Analysis Unit; it looked like the entire team was darkening Dean's motel doorstep. A dark haired man with intense dark eyes had to be the guy Dean had been talking to, Aaron, was in the lead. He was followed by a black muscled man who glared at Dean. He immediately knew he had to watch out for this one. Another man followed, older than his teammates. Muscle man might be intimidating physically, but Dean sensed he would have to watch out for this older guy, too. His eyes reminded him of Pastor Jim's, old, knowing, seeing right through to the heart of a person. Dean's eyes lit up when he saw the two ladies: a classy, tall brunette and a sweet looking blonde. He put on his best grin. "Ladies."

They both smiled at him but they were knowing smiles, not giving him an inch. That was cool, he had worked with less.

"Where's Sam?" Aaron asked. It was obvious none of them had missed Bobby with his shotgun but no one made an issue of it. Maybe they really were more interested in finding Reid than busting Dean.

"Why don't you introduce yourselves, first?" Bobby asked dryly.

One by one they introduced themselves but no one extended hands towards each other.

"How long has Reid been gone?" Dean asked, wanting to control the conversation and keeping it off of Sam as long as he could.

"This morning," Hotchner answered. Dean got the impression that, while every one of them wanted Reid back, this guy had a bigger stake.

Dean glanced at Bobby who slowly nodded. "Sam disappeared this morning, too."

"And you have no idea where they are? Are they together?" Morgan demanded more than asked.

"No idea on both," Bobby grunted, moving back towards the map. "We've got feelers out."

"Speaking of," Dean grabbed his ringing cell phone. "Ash, what do you got?" He could hear the jukebox of the Roadhouse where he made his home in the background. Ash was an even better hacker than his brother and had been Dean's third call that morning, promising to look for any sign of Sam.

"Okay, listen, it's a big negatory on Sam."

Dean didn't want to hear that. "Oh, come on, man! You've gotta give us something. We're looking at a three thousand-mile haystack here."

"Listen, Dean, I did find something." Ash sounded strangely hesitant, lowering his voice instead of upping it over the noise of the Roadhouse.

"Well, what?" He could feel eyes on him as he paced, waiting for Ash's answer. Bobby, at least, kind of knew what was going on. The FBI people didn't have a clue. Too fucking bad, they were just going to have to keep their pants on. Well, maybe not the ladies, but the guys could keep theirs on.

"I can't talk over this line, Dean."

What the fuck? "Come on, I don't have time for this!"

"Make time, okay? Because this -- What's up? What's going on?"

Dean glared at the phone because of Ash's totally off the track questions. Listening harder he realized Ash was talking to someone in the Roadhouse and didn't want them knowing he was talking to Dean.

"Not only does this almost definitely help you find your brother, this is…it's huge. So get here. Now." Okay, that was definitely for him but the sound of the dial tone stopped him from asking more.

Dean glared at the phone then turned to Bobby. "I guess we're going to the Roadhouse. Come on."

"What? Why?" Despite his words, Bobby was already gathering his stuff.

The FBI people, thankfully, stood back and watched instead of asking questions and getting in the way. Dean told Bobby about Ash's demands as he packed as well.

"Whatever this person is going to tell you is going to help you find Sam and Reid?" Gideon asked during a break in Dean's story.

"Yeah, sounds like it."

"Hotch?" Gideon turned to the dark haired man, obviously asking for something.

"We can't commandeer the jet," Hotchner protested, holding up his hand for silence when his team erupted. "I want him back just as much as you do." He stared intently at his people, conveying something with his eyes. "You know that. But we can't just take the jet."

"Well, technically," the blonde, JJ, broke in, "we couldn't but Robert owes me a favor."

"JJ, I think the FBI is going to notice a missing Jet Stream," Hotchner pointed out dryly. "Even if our pilot was willing to fly it without authorization."

"True." Her blue eyes twinkled. "But Robert owns his own plane. It'll be tight, but we could all fit."

That was how Dean ended up on a flying sardine can on his way to the Roadhouse, white-knuckling the armrests and his knees up to his ears. He kept his eyes shut and his breathing slow and purposeful. At least this time there wasn't a complete certainty that a demon-possessed passenger was going to bring down the plane. In fact and thankfully, nobody was paying him any attention at all. The FBI agents were totally enraptured with Bobby, who was surprisingly having blast, giving the FBI lessons in Supernatural 101, 102, and 103. Sam had better be grateful as hell for the things Dean was willing to do to save his scrawny ass because if this wasn't brotherly love, he didn't know what the hell was.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~  
~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter Five

"So, we're soldiers in a demon war to bring on the Apocalypse?" Jake's expression was incredulity, confusion, and a little bit of anger.

Reid understood why he felt all three. Without his FBI training and his open mind, he was pretty sure he would have been feeling the same things. Fortunately, he could sit back and observe the others, trusting Sam to tell him what needed to be done. It was very much the same feeling he had with Hotchner while they were on the job. He vaguely wondered if Sam's brother was older or younger and whether or not he had the same leadership quality.

"When you put it like that --" Sam said sheepishly but still so earnest in expression.

"And we've been picked?" Jake clarified, waving his hand at them all.

"Yes." Sam nodded.

"Why us?"

Reid could tell Jake was referring, not to himself or Sam, but to Andy, Ava, Lily, and Reid. It was said that a soldier could always recognize another and other than Sam and Jake, none of them could qualify as such.

Sam made a frustrated noise, face scrunching. "I'm not sure, okay? But look, I just know--"

"Sam, I'm sorry. Psychics and spoon-bending is one thing, but demons?" Ava shook her head, waving her hand. She made all of the right moves, but something about her eyes was off to Reid.

"Look, I know it sounds crazy, but--" Sam tried again.

"It doesn't just sound it." Jake rolled his eyes.

"I don't really care what you think, okay?" Sam finally lost his temper, getting into all of their faces, conveying not only his displeasure at their disbelief, but his fear for them. It was as if he knew they were more in danger than him. "If we're all gathered here together, then that means it's starting and that we've gotta--"

"The only thing I've gotta do is stay away from whackjobs, okay?" Jake countered, turning his back on them. "I've heard enough. I'm better off on my own. FYI, so are you."

"Jake, hold on. Jake!" Sam tried to grab for him.

Jake pushed him off, heading deeper into the town.

Sam raked frustrated hands through his longish hair before searing the rest of them with a glare. "We need to protect ourselves."

"Sam," Ava tried again, only to be cut off by Sam taking off.

If there was one thing Reid could do, it was run, easily keeping up with the long-legged, long stride Sam. He could hear Ava, Andy, and Lily huffing and puffing behind him. He heard Jake yelling, "Get back!"

Sam sped up at the yells, Reid following suit. He skidded to a stop outside an old fashioned schoolhouse, narrowly missing Sam. The others were not so aware. He grunted as Andy, Ava, then Lily slammed into him then each other like kinetic balls. Reid didn't bother to even glare at them. He was too busy staring in dropped mouth horror at the ghostly little girl slowly advancing on Jake. Her hands were Raptor sharp, reaching for the soldier. Chalk moved on its own, writing "I will not kill" over and over again on the chalkboard behind him. Metal-ripping-apart screeching assaulted Reid's ears.

Sam grabbed an iron poker from inside the building, slashing it through the air, through the girl. She disappeared in a cloud of noxious black smoke. Reid ducked as the cloud surged out of the schoolroom over his head. Reid's mind was tripping over itself, computing, rationalizing, and coming up with the only conclusion it could: Sam was telling the truth. It was one thing to want to believe, to know you had a power science had never proven. It was another thing to see a murderous little ghost girl transform into a dark mass and zoom away just because Sam swung some metal through her. He stared at Sam, the only calm person in their group.

"Just so you know? That was a demon. Now, that thing -- I'm not sure, but I think it was an Acheri. A demon that disguises itself as a little girl." Sam evenly answered their unanswered questions, keeping a hold of the poker, and leading the way out of the schoolroom. This time, no one countered him, nobody doubted him. They all followed, listening as he lectured them on demonology. "That still doesn't tell us where we are." He spun suddenly, eyes going straight to Andy. "Andy, are you with me or what?"

"Give me a minute," he pleaded, hands shaking as they each held up a finger. "I'm still working through, 'Demons are real.'"

Sam nodded, then turned. "Spencer?"

That was an easy answer. "Yes. I was with you before all this."

It was gratifying to see Sam nodding and the little smile he gave him. They kept walking, in silence this time, stopping smoothly when Sam stilled. Reid took one more step forward to place himself by Sam's side. "Sam?" He followed the other man's line of sight. In front of the building across from them hung a large, rusty bell. It had an engraving of an oak tree. "Sam?" he prompted again.

"I've seen that bell before. I think I know where we are now."

"Cold Oak, South Dakota. A town so haunted, every single resident fled," Reid answered to the astonishment of them all.

"Yeah." Sam gave him an eyebrow. "You've heard of it?"

Reid shrugged a shoulder, self conscious now that everyone was looking at him. Put him in front of a bunch of law enforcement officers with a profile to give and he was fine. He could lecture until people fell asleep. Being the center of attention with a small, intense group like this? Not so much.

"Swell," Ava scoffed. "Good to know we're somewhere so historical."

"Why in the world would that demon or whatever put us here?" Lily was again keeping her distance from everyone as she turned, staring at the dilapidated buildings.

Sam, unfortunately, didn't have an answer. "I'm wondering the same thing."

Lily glared at him, huffing out an angry sound. "You know what? It doesn't matter. Clearly, the only sane thing to do here is get the hell out of Dodge."

Reid was inclined to vote with her but Sam wasn't.

"Wait, hold on. Lily, the only way out is through miles of woods."

She sneered at him. "Beats hanging out with demons." She had a point.

Sam shook his head. "Lily, look, we don't know what's going on yet. I mean, we don't even know how many of them are out there right now." So did Sam.

Reid was surprised to hear Jake support Sam. "Yeah, he's right. We should--"

"Don't say 'we!' I'm not part of 'we.' I have nothing in common with any of you." Lily was fairly screaming at Jake, agitated, pulling on her sleeves again, and waving her arms as if warding them off.

Sam took a deep breath, moving to stand right in from of her. Reid recognized it as a trick to calm a person, give them something to emulate and they might do it. Monkey see, monkey do. "Okay," he said, voice gentle, soothing. "Look, I know--"

"You don't know anything!" she sneered again, breathing becoming harsher with every word. She nearly sobbed, "I accidentally touched my girlfriend."

Reid nodded, figuring the reason for her "keep away" attitude had to result from something like that. Her behavior had to be attributed to more than just being amongst strangers in a strange place. It was more likely for strangers to bond during and after a traumatic event. No, with Lily, with the way she kept herself separated from everyone else and the revelation of her power, Reid had suspected the source of her torment. Not killing her girlfriend, per se, but causing the death of someone she loved for certain. After all, Sam and Ava had visions that, in of themselves, couldn't hurt anyone. Andy used his to channel gay porn into someone he didn't like, not having the meanness in him to do anything more malicious. Reid had embraced his powers, logically learning how to control them so that he wouldn't accidentally hurt someone. Jake hadn't said what his power was; that made Reid nervous. Military training, aggression, and secretive enough to keep his power from them.

"I'm sorry." Sam's voice was gentle, his face the very epitome of empathic sympathy.

Lily seemed to calm at that, leaning closer to confide, "I feel like I'm in a nightmare, and it just keeps getting worse and worse."

"I've lost people, too." Sam was very good, offering a piece of himself in exchange for the piece of herself offered. "I have a brother out there right now that could be dead, for all I know." He waved a hand at them all. "We're all in bad shape. But I'm telling you, the best way out of this is to stick together." He passed his eyes over them, connecting with each of them with his words and the intensity of his eyes. One by one, they all nodded. Even Lily. She even smiled minutely when Sam swept a hand out in an old world mannerism, indicating she should go first.

"So what do we do now?" Reid asked, falling into step with the others as they all followed Sam.

"We're looking for iron, silver, salt -- any kind of weapon."

Jake threw him a disbelieving look. "Salt is a weapon?"

Sam gently smirked. "It's a brave new world."

"Well, hopefully there's food in your world, because I'm frickin' starving." Snickers and tiny laughter met Andy's grumble as they explored the buildings, searching for anything of use.

Reid let them all go into the building ahead of him. He hung back, eyes raking over the storm gray landscape. Leafless trees stood guardian still, not even wind providing a modicum of life. No wildlife, no sun. He bit a corner of his lip, knowing that out there, somewhere, Hotchner and the rest of his friends were searching for him. He wanted to go back to Hotchner's warm house, warm bed, warm and safe arms.

He sighed. At least this time, he wasn't facing everything alone.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"What the hell!" Dean Winchester scrambled out of the rented SUV, followed closely by Bobby Singer.

Hotchner had seen devastation like this all too often, moving more slowly, giving Dean and Bobby the privacy to deal with their initial shock. The Roadhouse was, Bobby had told them, a place for hunters of the supernatural to congregate. One of a kind, as far as the older man had known. Unfortunately, it was now nothing more than a haphazard pile of wood and stone. Burnt wood and stone. Getting closer, Hotchner saw the charred remains of people who had been trapped inside this inferno. He said a quick prayer for their souls. He may not have known them, but they were his kin. Men and women dedicated to saving the innocent from monsters.

"Oh my God," Bobby whispered, hand raking down his grizzled face as if he could wipe away the horror of his friends' demise.

"I'm sorry," Gideon murmured, having gravitated towards the other man.

Bobby nodded his thanks before carefully moving towards the wreckage. Gideon followed him.

"You see Ellen?" Dean's voice was harsh, hoarse; hunter's eyes scanning the wreckage for the familiar face of the Roadhouse's proprietress.

Bobby shook his head. "No. No Ash, either."

Dean made a sudden sound, kneeling in the debris, reaching for something hidden under a pile of wood. Morgan helped him move a large plank to reveal a body. Completely unrecognizable because of the extensive burns, but Dean somehow knew, letting out a quietly anguished, angry sigh. "Oh, Ash, damn it!"

~*~*~*~*~*~

Sam picked up a knife he found in the room he was searching. It was old, rusting, but he tested it with his thumb, still sharp enough to do some damage. He could hear the others moving around the house, also looking for things that help in getting through this nightmare. A shout from downstairs had him moving fast.

"You guys!" Sam followed the sound of Andy's voice, encountering the other men along the way.

"I found something!" Andy emerged from another room, triumphantly holding up two big bags. "Salt!"

Sam grinned, unable to resist in the face of Andy's enthusiasm. "That's great, Andy. Now, we all can…where's Lily and Ava?"

"Lily!" Andy yelled, dropping the bags in a safe corner.

"Ava! Lily!" Sam tried this time, louder.

A scream rent the air, followed by the sounds of a giggling little girl. Sam cursed, the Acheri demon was back. He thundered over to the stairs, the others following. He had to jump over Lily's body at the base of the stairs to avoid stepping on her. He could tell it was already too late for her. "Ava!"

"Sam! Help me, Sam!"

He sped up the stairs. "Jake! The poker!" Sam tackled Ava out of the Acheri's way, turning just in time to see Jake swing the iron through the demon. A repeat of the schoolhouse later, the demon was gone.

"Oh, my God!" Ava clutched at him. "Okay, that's officially -- Sam, she's dead! She's dead! You said we were chosen for a reason. That is not chosen! That's killed! That demon killed her! Okay, we have to get out of here."

"Stop," he commanded her, shaking her just a little to get her to calm down.

"Yeah, I second that emotion." Andy spoke. Reid even nodded.

Sam sucked in a deep breath, not seeing any other option. "Yeah, okay, let's get out of here."

Relief was mirrored on all of their faces. Sam made them gather what they had already found, just in case. He took care of Lily's body, laying her down into a more peaceful position near the only unbroken window in the house. What little light trickled in through the clouds illuminated her. Her blonde hair shone in the light, reminding Sam of two other blonde women who had fallen because of demons. Saying a quick prayer over her, he gathered the rest of his little tribe. They moved as a group to the edge of town. Not more than ten steps from its perimeter, they froze.

"Oh my God," Reid whispered, hands already out and pointed at the dozens of Acheri demons. A whole line of demented little demon girls, claws extended, faces distorted into gruesome masks of death.

"Get back to the house!" Sam yelled, pushing and shoving them out of their horrified stupor. They scrambled, throwing fearful glances over their shoulders, slipping, sliding through the mud. He slammed the door shut, shouting, "Line the doors and windows with salt! All of them!"

For once, none of them questioned, merely grabbing handfuls of salt. He made Ava, Andy, and Reid stay in the lower level, pulling Jake upstairs with the second bag of salt. It seemed to take forever, lining the windows, keeping an eye out for the advancing Acheri demons. Sam stopped to breathe as he finished the last window before joining the rest of the group downstairs. He found them all standing at one window, staring outside. "What's wrong?"

"Why are they just standing there?" Reid asked, pointing to the line of the demonic children, waiting just at the edge of the town limits.

"They don't want us to leave," Sam explained. "The demon's not gonna let us get away that easy. It wants us here until its plan has been fulfilled." He let his theory sink in, watching all of their faces. Reid was nodding, agreeing with his conclusion. Ava and Andy were terrified. Jake was being the stoic soldier. "We've gotta gear up for the next attack."

"Oh, gear up?" Ava asked.

The way she said it, Sam knew Ava was just winding up. So his answer was a wary, "Yeah."

"Okay, well, I'm not a soldier," she said that calmly enough but followed it up with a semi-hysterical, "I can't do that!"

Yeah, he was tired of dealing with her hysterics. "Well, if you wanna stay alive, you're gonna have to." It was the brutal truth; he was over coddling hers and Andy's civilian sensibilities. "Let's go."

Reid and Jake followed him easily enough as they gathered their makeshift weapons and created a working battle plan. Andy jumped right in, following orders without complaint. It took Ava a little more pouting but when they all ignored her, she finally gave in and did what she was told. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Sam grimaced, looking over their little fortifications of the house. "You know, I was just thinking about how much Dean would help right now. I'd give my arm for a working phone."

"Oh, hey!" Andy jumped up, a grin lighting his features. "You know, you may not need one. I've never tried it long-distance before, but do you have anything of Dean's on you? Like, something he touched?"

Sam had an inkling of what Andy was up to, but the other onlookers, including Reid, were watching with confused interest. He searched his pockets. "Uh…I've got a receipt. Would that work?"

"Yeah." Andy nodded, eagerly taking the small piece of paper. He squinted at it. "D. Hasselhoff?"

"Yeah, that's Dean's signature." Sam tried not to fidget under all of their incredulous, amused stares. "It's hard to explain."

Andy grinned. "All right."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Gideon raised his head, finishing the short prayer for the nearly two dozen bodies among the rubble. It chafed, not being able to call the police, to find their killer, to put them at peace. But with the supernatural nature of their deaths, it was impossible. Dean and Bobby had made it clear that hunters always salted and burned their dead. None of them wanted to rise again, to become what they once hunted. So, they helped Bobby and Dean bury the bodies. Hotchner and Morgan used their strong backs and arms to dig one massive grave. Bobby and Dean were carrying the bodies that Gideon, Prentiss, and JJ located.

Once they could find no more, Dean produced industrial containers of salt. He and Morgan poured the salt over the bodies as Bobby stood over them, praying in Latin. It was the older hunter that lit the match and threw it in. They had to wait, until the fire burned itself out before they could fill in the grave. As the funeral pyre blazed, silence reigned until Dean broke it.

"What the hell did Ash know?" Dean gritted out, frustration leaking out from the younger man in waves of agitation. He paced, arms wrapped around himself. "We've got no way of knowing where Ellen is. Or if she's even alive. We've got no clue what Ash was gonna tell us. Now, how the hell are we gonna find Sam?"

Bobby placed a paternal hand on Dean's shoulder. "We'll find him.

"Argh!"

Gideon and Bobby jumped to Dean's side, the young man clutching at his head, losing his balancing from the pain echoing in his head. The others stepped closer, concern on all of their faces, but they kept silent, as did Gideon. They all sensed the same thing, an unusual concern coming from Bobby. It wasn't the concern of a man for his friend; it wasn't even the concern of a father figure for a child. The apprehension was coming from a hunter, sensing something paranormal in their midst.

"Dean?" Bobby asked gently.

Dean groaned, an agonizing sound, as he doubled over, nearly jerking out of their hands.

"What was that?" Bobby demanded, less gentle now. More worry in his voice.

"I don't know." Dean barked. "A headache?"

"You get headaches like that a lot?" It was obvious Bobby didn't believe him.

"No. Must be the stress," Dean managed a weak chuckle but it was obvious he knew no one believed him. He glanced at each one of them but didn't quite meet their eyes as he confessed, "I could have sworn I saw something."

"What do you mean?" Bobby demanded, squinting at Dean. "Like a vision? Like what Sam gets?"

"What?" Dean jerked upright, eyes wide, and in complete denial. "No!"

Bobby huffed. "I'm just saying."

"Come on," Dean scoffed. "I'm not some psychic."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than was he flinging himself backwards, clutching his head once more. Morgan moved behind him, catching him before he could slam himself into the SUV. Gideon and Bobby moved forward, blocking Dean from the dangers of the smoldering Roadhouse. Hotchner and the girls between him and the fire.

"Dean? Dean! Are you with me?" Bobby grabbed him, shaking him to get his attention.

Dean grabbed him right back, anchoring himself. "Yeah, I think so. I saw Sam. I saw him, Bobby."

"It was a vision." Bobby was clearly satisfied that he was right.

"Yeah. I don't know how, but yeah." Dean rolled his eyes, shaking off all of their hands, regaining his feet. "Whew. That was about as fun as getting kicked in the jewels."

"What else did you see?" Gideon asked, his curiosity willing to play along with Dean's need to play off their concern.

"Uh … there was a bell." Dean squinted in remembrance.

"What kind of bell?" Hotchner asked, hand already reaching for his phone, probably to call Garcia.

"Like a big bell with some kind of engraving on it, I don't know."

Bobby jerked upright, getting right into Dean's space. "Engraving?"

The young man eyed him warily. "Yeah."

"Was it a tree? Like, an oak tree?" The old hunter was intense as he asked those questions, getting more and more excited. The BAU watched him, sensing the break in the case, as it were.

"Yeah, exactly." Dean must have sense it too, straightening even further, excitement starting to color his features.

Bobby grinned but it wasn't a happy smile; it was a grimace of teeth, foreshadowing something terrible. "I know where Sam is."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Reid waited in the shadows of the barn where Sam and Jake were harvesting iron bars off the wheels of an old rusted wagon. Jake finally revealed his power: superhuman strength. Sam seemed impressed but Reid was relieved. Jake had a physical power, a power he had to be close to his victim to use. He was a much lesser threat than Andy with his mind control powers but Reid also knew that Andy didn't have a mean bone in his body and that the other man would be no threat. Jake was less of a threat than the Ava, whom Reid didn't trust at all, not with those traitorous eyes. She was the only person present when Lily died; she was the only person who had missing for longer than one night. Her power might only be precognition but Reid did not make the mistake of dismissing the danger she posed.

Nor did he dismiss Jake as a possible threat. The soldier had kept himself separate from the group in a way Lily hadn't. He had walked out on them at the beginning, then had to be saved by Sam. He also didn't share his power with them. He still hadn't. He only revealed it to Sam, as if trying to cement their status as fellow soldiers, apart from the others. Out of the group, Reid only trusted Sam, his profiler's instincts telling him he could truly trust the other man and to stick close. That was why he was out here, waiting in the shadows. Sam was too trusting, thinking that it was the group against the demon that had brought them here. But Reid didn't think so, feeling the danger from more than one source.

He waited until Jake went back into the house to slip into the barn. "Sam?"

"Spencer!" Sam was frowning. "Why aren't you inside with everyone else? It's not safe out here."

"I needed to talk to you." Reid appreciated Sam's gruff worry, made him nostalgic for Morgan.

"Sure. Let's get back to the others though." Sam reached for him but Reid shook him off.

"No, I need to talk to you about them."

That definitely got Sam's attention. "Spencer?"

Reid bit his lip, wrapping his arms around himself, not relishing what he was about to do. Sam already had enough on his plate; this would only add more pressure to the already stressed man. He decided to ease into it. "How much do you know about profiling?"

"Just what I've read on the internet. And a TV show Dean likes to watch because he thinks the profiler's pretty."

Reid grinned, nodding. "The BAU provides behavioral based investigative and operational support by applying case experience, research, and training to complex and time-sensitive crimes, typically involving acts or threats of violence. BAU assistance to law enforcement agencies is provided through the process of criminal investigative analysis. Criminal investigative analysis is a process of reviewing crimes from both a behavioral and investigative perspective. It involves reviewing and assessing the facts of a criminal act, interpreting offender behavior, and interaction with the victim, as exhibited during the commission of the crime, or as displayed in the crime scene."

It was Sam's turn to grin. "Spencer, where is that written?"

"The FBI website. Why?" Reid looked at him in confusion. Why would Sam ask that?

Sam looked like he was trying not to laugh. "Nothing, nothing. You were saying?"

Reid blinked. "Uh, okay, well, so you understand that I've had experience with criminals."

Sam nodded but it was his turn to look at Reid in confusion. "Reid, we're dealing with a demon, I'm not sure how you're going to profile it."

"Not the demon." Reid shook his head, knowing Sam really didn't want to hear this. "The others."

He was right. Sam's face hardened into a mask, not wanting to believe that Reid had found something criminal or even remotely malicious about the people he had worked so hard to protect since they had found each other this morning. "Spencer."

"Please, Sam, just listen? Ava and Jake are the ones we have to watch out for. They exhibit --" Reid talked fast, trying to impart to the other man the importance of his observations and conclusions about those two. He could tell that Sam was listening to him but not necessarily believing him. Sam really wanted to believe in the basic goodness of man and that the only true source of evil was the supernatural he fought on a daily basis. But Reid dealt with the evil in men. Knew that evil didn't just come from demons but from human depravity. "Sam, you need to watch out for them. Please."

To Reid's immense relief, Sam nodded. He had done all that he could for now but he promised himself that he would continue to watch Sam's back.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"My horoscope said I shouldn't have gotten out of bed." Sam laughed softly at Ava's aggrieved complaint. She glanced up at him. "How you doing? Holding up?"

"I'm okay." Sam nodded, not looking up from where he was making sure the salt lines were still in place and undisturbed. "What about you?"

"Not so okay," she answered honestly. "Why us, Sam? What did we do to deserve this?"

Sam laughed with very little mirth. "Just lucky, I guess."

Ava sighed. "If it wasn't for bad luck, we'd have no luck at all. I just can't wait for this all to be over so I can just pretend it never happened. I just wanna curl up with Brady and watch bad TV."

Sam shifted uncomfortably at the mention of Ava's fiancé's name. Unfortunately, Ava noticed.

"What is it? Sam … do you know something that I don't?"

Sam hesitated, trying to find the right words. "Look, Ava . . . I'm sorry. I wish I didn't have to tell you this."

"Tell me what?" She was already sensing the bad news, her eyes wide and nearly begging for him to tell her something else.

"When the demon broke into your house to take you … your fiancé didn't make it. I'm sorry." Sam waited as the news cycled through her mind, tracking its comprehension just by the incremental fall of her face.

"No, that's … no!"

Sam could do nothing more than hold her as she sobbed in his arms. He felt like shit but what more could he do than tell her the truth and hold her as she cried? He held her until she pulled away, asking for some time alone. He nodded, murmuring his plans to check on the others. One by one, he checked on the little tribe he had going. Despite Spencer's warning, he couldn't help but feel responsible for all of them. Couldn't help wanting to trust all of them. Until he was proven wrong and Spencer right, Sam would follow his heart and protect them all.

After making the rounds, he found a clear spot to bed down. His dreams were filled with demons of his past, present, and future. The Yellow Eyed Demon showed him the night his mother died, showed him the demon blood dripping into his six month old mouth, showed him how his mother knew who the demon was and tried to stop him from hurting her son. The bastard showed him how she died with fear for him in her eyes. The demon also told him why the hell they were all here. It was a test, a test to see which of them would be fit to be the leader of the Yellow Eyed Demon's evil army. He wanted them to fight each other, to eliminate the competition. And the bastard was cheering for him, telling Sam he was his favorite.

"Sam, wake up!"

Sam jerked awake at Jake's yelling and shaking. "What? Jake?"

"Ava's missing." Jake pulled him to his feet and outside. "I'll take the barn and the hotel. You take the houses."

He shook the last of the sleep away with a nod. "All right. Meet back here in ten minutes, okay"

"Okay." Jake nodded before he took off.

It took Sam less than five minutes to search his section of the town, yelling for Ava the whole time. He didn't find her, alive or dead. He jogged back to the house in time to hear feminine screams coming from inside. He powered through the door and up the stairs, jerking to a stop, incredulous at what he found. "Spencer! What are you doing?!"

Ava was trapped behind a wall of fire, obviously controlled by Spencer. Andy was behind him staring.

"Sam! Help me! Sam!"

"Spencer! Stop!"

Reid shook his head. "You don't understand—"

"Spencer! Stop with the fire!"

"But, Sam!" Andy objected.

"Sam, help me! Please!"

"Now!"

Reid glared at him but he did it. The flame died down, Ava immediately jumped into his arms.

"Sam! They tried to kill me!"

"Did not!" Andy yelled. "She tried to kill me! Spence here saved me!"

"Why would I try to kill you?" Ava screamed back.

"Why would we try to kill you?" Reid asked, more reasonable than either Ava or Andy. Sam could see it in his eyes, could see that this wasn't new, that dealing with human monsters wasn't a new thing for the FBI profiler.

Sam thought about everything Reid had told him. Reid was standing in front of Andy, the other man was hiding behind him. Reid wasn't, by any stretch of the imagination, someone anyone would hide _behind_. For Andy to feel safer behind him said something. And he didn't believe for a second that Reid and Andy conspired to kill Ava. They just didn't have it in them. He walked deeper into the room, something niggling at him to check the salt lines. One of the lines in the window was damaged, the continuous line no more. "Who broke this line?"

Ava jumped right in. "Andy did it! I think--"

"Did not!" Andy shouted.

Sam spoke over them both. "I'll tell you what I think: five months." He turned to stare down Ava. "You're the only one with all that time you can't account for. And you were the only one with Lily when she died."

Ava glared at him, indignation radiating from her. "What are you trying to say?"

"What happened to you?" he asked gently.

"Nothing!"

Sam continued to look at her, telling her with his silent accusation to give it up.

She raked a glare at him then at Reid and Andy, and then finally, she dropped the innocent act. "Had you going, though, didn't I?" She wiped the tears that had been in her eyes away. "Yeah. I've been here a long time. And not alone, either. People just keep showing up. Children, like us. Batches of three or four at a time."

"You killed them? All of them?" Reid asked. It was clear that while he knew Ava was up to something, he hadn't expected her to turn out to be a demon-blessed serial killer.

Ava preened. "I'm the undefeated heavyweight champ."

"Oh my God," both he and Andy breathed. Andy from horror at her gloating; him from her radical change from Peoria secretary to mass murderer. Reid said nothing, obviously unsurprised, but then again, he had called it from the get-go.

"Don't think God has much to do with this, Sam." Her joke was only funny in her head.

"How could you?" Sam asked, still trying to understand this change in the young woman who had traveled from her home to another city just to save Sam's life.

She shrugged. "I had no choice. It was me or them. After a while, it was easy. It was even kind of fun. I just stopped fighting it.

"Fighting what?" Andy asked from behind Reid.

"Who we are. If you just quit your hand-wringing and open yourself up, you have no idea what you can do. The learning curve is so fast, it's crazy, the switches that just flip in your brain. I can't believe I started out just having dreams. Do you know what I can do now?"

"Control demons." Sam didn't have to guess, not with the Acheri demon killing Lily and the broken salt line.

"Ah, you _are_ quick on the draw." She gave him a smile like a teacher with a slow student who finally got the right answer. The smile turned malicious. "Yeah, I'm sorry, Sam. But it's over."

Sam watched in horror as she began massaging her temples and a formless black cloud slowly streamed through the window. He jumped out of its path, grabbing the iron poker from before. It cut through the smoke dissipating it but another took its place. Sam kept swinging. Reid was shooting fire at them. But they kept coming.

Suddenly, they were gone, a heavy thump following their retreat. Sam turned, staring at Ava's dead body. Her neck was twisted all wrong, obviously broken. And obviously courtesy of Jake, standing behind her.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~  
~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter Six

 

It took less than an hour to fly from Nebraska to South Dakota. It took considerably longer to rent more SUVs and to drive to Cold Oak. And it looked like it was going to take even longer to get to the actual town, the way blocked by heavy woods.

"Looks like the rest of the way's on foot." Bobby got out. Dean followed him.

"I'm so glad I'm dressed for this," JJ murmured, surveying the rough terrain. "Otherwise, I would have just slowed everyone down."

Dean grinned at her. "A woman after my own heart."

JJ winked at him, Emily smirked.

"Dean!"

"Yes, sir?" Dean presented himself to Bobby, smiling sheepishly at Bobby's chastising glare. He bobbed his head in apology and set himself to loading himself with weaponry. It had been a bitch transferring everything they thought they were going to need from the Impala and Bobby's car to the toy they had the nerve to call an airplane, then from the airplane to the SUVs. But it was worth it if anything they'd brought was going to help them get Sam back.

"You got enough in there for me?"

Dean smirked at Morgan. "You think you can handle it?"

"I can handle anything you can handle, Winchester. And then some."

"We'll see." Dean handed him a sawed off shotgun and a machete. One by one, the other FBI agents came forward to gear up. Even the old professor type guy. He watched them all check their equipment. Once he was satisfied they could handle their gear, he nodded to himself. "Let's go."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"I think we can make it out of here now."

Reid jerked around, away from Ava's body, away from Jake, to stare at Sam. "We can?"

"But the Acheri demons…" Jake argued, waving towards the window.

"No, no, no. Ava was summoning then, controlling them. They shouldn't come back now that she's dead." Sam grabbed both him and Andy, pulling them both downstairs and out of the house.

Reid gently shook off Sam's hand, more than willing to believe the other man. He easily kept up with Sam's long strides; Andy was jogging but didn't seem to mind being herded out of this forsaken place.

"Hurry," Sam urged. "We've gotta go."

"Not 'we,' Sam."

Reid froze, quickly turning so that Jake wasn't at his back anymore. He also kept his hands at his sides, ready just in case. He desperately hoped that Jake hadn't seen what he could do, having arrived after Sam made him pull down the firewall around Ava. Out of the corner of his eyes, Reid saw the surprise in Andy's face. Sadly, he wasn't surprised at all at the soldier's action.

Neither was Sam. He seemed resigned, his shoulders dropping. "Jake?"

"Only one of us is getting out of here. I'm sorry." Jake was shaking his head and even looked appropriately apologetic.

Reid was sure it was all an act. "Don't believe him, Sam," he whispered.

Sam shot him a pleading look, turning it on Jake as well. "Jake, what's going on?"

"I had a vision. That Yellow-Eyed Demon or whatever it was, he talked to me. He told me how it was."

"No, Jake, listen. You can't listen to him."

Reid watched as Sam tried to talk some sense into Jake but he knew it wasn't going to work. Jake didn't have the same look as Ava, power hungry traitor. Instead, he had the look of a survivor, doing whatever he had to do to get be the last one standing. But he had to admire Sam's tenacity in believing in his fellow man. Reid, as innocent and naïve as his friends thought of him, knew better. Demons were created evil. Man chose it.

"Sam, he's not letting us go. Only one. Now, if we don't play along, he'll kill us both. Now, I like you, man. All of you." Jake looked at each of them, but not in the eyes. A sure sign of duplicity in Reid's experience. "I do. But do the math here. What good's it do for all of us to die? Now, I can get out of here. I get close to the demon, I can kill the bastard."

Sam was shaking his head. "You come with me, we can kill him together."

"How do I know you won't turn on me?"

Reid nearly laughed. Not only because Sam was the least likely at this moment to turn on them, but Jake had just killed a woman with his bare hands. He was the biggest threat, no matter what. Andy seemed to realize it too, as he was inching away from Jake, closer to Sam and Reid. He was spearing anxious looks at both of them. Reid stepped forward, between Andy and Jake. He wasn't heroic, far from it, but the instincts that drove him to join the FBI, drove him to protect the most vulnerable of them.

"I won't," Sam promised.

Jake looked doubtful. "I don't know that."

"Okay, look." Sam pulled out the knife he had kept with him all this time. He showed it to Jake, holding it by the tip of the blade with only two fingertips. He slowly knelt.

"No, Sam."

"It's okay, Spencer." Sam gave him a reassuring look even as he dropped the knife.

Reid really wished he hadn't done that. Now, not only did Jake have superhuman strength, he had the only weapon, an iron wheel spoke.

"Just come with me, Jake. Don't do this. Don't play into what it wants."

To Reid's shock, Jake gave into Sam's coaxing, placing the flat blade on the ground as well. Sam was relieved, shooting Reid a triumphant glance. Reid steadily returned his look but his eyes were filled with warning still.

Andy's eyes were bouncing between all three of them. "Sam, are you sure, man?"

"Yeah," Sam whispered to Andy but never took his eyes off of Jake. It gave Reid hope. Sam smiled at Jake. "Okay."

"Yeah," Jake murmured. "Okay."

Reid watched his body language. "Sam--"

Jake punched Sam.

Reid watched in absolute horror as Sam flew across a field, crashing into the ground with a bone jarring thud. Jake rushed after him, intent on finishing him off. "Sam!" Reid screamed. "Look out!"

Jake kicked the fence down, barely stopping.

"C'mon, c'mon!"

Reid spun at Andy's harshly whispered demands. Andy was scrambling for the iron blade. Reid instantly knew what he was trying to do, trying to control Jake's mind with his own. If it worked, he could help Sam. Sam, who was valiantly fighting Jake off. Punches were traded, kicks thrown and absorbed. Even with Jake's power, Sam was more than holding his own. It was obvious who was the better fighter. "Andy?"

"It's not working, damn it!" Andy growled, throwing the blade down.

Sam rolled straight for it. He popped back onto his feet, spun, using the flat blade to knock Jake out. Reid could read it in his body, in his eyes, Sam wanted to kill Jake for his treachery. His breath heaved in, out, for a single inhalation and his decision was made. Sam walked away from Jake and towards them.

"Dude! Sam!" Andy was victory dancing and cheering. "You totally kicked his ass!"

Sam huffed a tired laughed. "Let's get out of here."

Andy nodded enthusiastically, nearly skipping away as Sam followed him. Reid didn't hide his smile but cautiously looked over his shoulder. Jake was still down. Reid watched him for a long moment.

"Spence! Dude! The train's leavin'!"

Reid smiled at Andy's enthusiastic shout. Up ahead, he and Sam stood waiting. He jogged to catch up.

Jake surged past him.

"NO! SAM, LOOK OUT!" Reid's horror threatened to choke him as Jake ran full tilt at Sam, going at him from an angle, rusty knife in hand. He let loose with a fireball, aiming, hitting Jake in the side.

Andy's scream said it was too late. He was struggling under Sam's weight. Jake was getting back up on his feet. Reid ran to his friends just as Jake loomed over them. He threw another fireball; Jake flew backwards, slamming into building. It didn't stop him; he stood, simply shaking off the dust.

"Spence, man, Sam's in a bad way."

"Keep pressure on the wound." Reid did the only thing he could think of: he closed his eyes, held out his hands, and asked the fire to grow. Flames ringed the three of them, growing higher and higher. Soaring well above even Sam's head had he been standing. Reid turned to Sam; Andy's scared eyes watching him as he carefully looked at Sam's wound. It was a long, ugly gash across the low of his back and deep, very deep. He was also unconscious. Sam had to have suffered a concussion from being hit in the head repeatedly by Jake.

"What do we do?" Andy asked, hands wringing and fluttering in anxiety.

Reid wished he had the luxury of giving into his anxiety as well. "We need to put pressure on his wound."

"Do we need to, like, cauterize the wound or something?" Andy moved as Reid directed, helping him get Sam's outer shirt off and using it as a bandage.

"Not unless we can't stop his bleeding."

Jake roared from the other side of the inferno, clearly pissed off.

Andy jerked, looking up. "Dude, I'm so damn glad you're a pyro, Spencer."

"You want to leave? Leave!" Reid yelled through the wall of fire. "You don't have to hurt us! It said only one of us gets to leave. You can leave. We'll stay here!" He had no idea if Jake was listening or not. He had no idea how long he could keep up the protective wall of fire surrounding them. He had no idea if Sam's message to Dean made it through whatever barrier the demon had erected around the town. He had no idea if help was coming.

Reid only knew that he had to protect the injured his friends and himself long enough for their loved ones to come get them.

~*~*~*~*~*~

A cyclone of fire greeted them in Cold Oak.

"What the hell?" Dean stared at the column of flames.

Hotchner and the fibbies rushed ahead.

Dean jumped forward, him and Bobby following in their wake. "Hey! What're you?"

"It's Reid!" floated back over the still wind.

"Spencer!"  
"Reid!"  
"Reid!"

"Spencer, it's Aaron." Hotchner was the closest to the fire, standing on his toes as if he could see over or past the conflagration. He almost tipped over into the fire, would have if Morgan hadn't grabbed him. "Spencer!"

"Aaron?"

"I'm here. We're all here," Hotchner assured him.

"Is it really you?" The question was plaintive, afraid.

"Hey, kid, it's a little early for bonfires," Morgan teased. "Why don't you douse it?"

"Spencer," Gideon added his own pleas. "Spencer, lower the flames, son."

Dean got impatient. "Hey, kid, where's my brother?"

"Dean?" That wasn't Reid. It wasn't even Sam.

It sounded suspiciously like, "Andy?"

"Dean, oh my God! Dean, Sam's hurt! That rat bastard Jake shanked him in the back!"

That did it for Dean. "Reid! Lower these goddamn flames! Now!"

It seemed to work, the fire shrinking, but it took agonizing seconds for Dean to see past it. Sam was on his stomach, lying too damn still. "Sam!"

Dean jumped over the lessening ring of fire, feeling the heat but not caring. Andy scrambled back; Reid was still concentrating on extinguishing the blaze. Dean didn't really care about them. He gently turned his brother, mindful of the wound Andy was still pressing on. "Sam! Hey! Come here. Let me look at you. Sam!"

His brother's eyes barely opened. "Dean?" His head lolled dangerously.

Dean caught him, cradling his head in a palm. He slid in closer, supporting Sam's wobbling body with his own, laying his shaggy head on his shoulder. He held his baby brother, unconsciously rocking him like when he was a kid. "Sammy? Sam! Hey, listen to me. We're gonna patch you up, okay? You're gonna be good as new. I'm gonna take care of you. I'm gonna take you care of you. I've got you. That's my job, right? Watch out for my pain-in-the-ass little brother? Sam? Sam! Sammy!"

"S-stop callin' me Sam-my."

Dean's laugh was watery but real.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~  
~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Chapter Seven

 

Reid stared in utter fascination at the bookcases and stacks of books littering Bobby Singer's home. They had come here after leaving Cold Oak, with only a side trip to a hospital for Sam's wound. Bobby had indifferently offered them a place to stay, saying that he had plenty of room, but Reid and his friends had unanimously come to the silent agreement that it was his way of thanking them for helping Sam. It was so late, they agreed, especially since there still seemed to be unanswered questions. What happened to Jake? What happened now? Would there be repercussions for leaving Cold Oak? Their exodus from that hellhole had been ridiculously easily: they walked out without a demon in sight.

Hiking from the ghost town to the SUVs, Hotchner, Morgan, Bobby and Dean had carried Sam as to not further aggravate his knife wound. They'd made it to the hospital in record time, thanks to Morgan's driving. Once at the hospital, Dean had refused to let his brother go anywhere without him. Security had almost thrown him out until Gideon had explained that the Winchesters had lost their father at nearly the same time last year. The sympathetic nurses and doctors of the small town hospital had reluctantly let Dean stay with his brother. They had even let Hotchner stay with Reid when he had been check out. Reid remained safely ensconced in his lover's arms since practically the second he lowered the fire enough to see Hotchner. As for Andy? He had to be in heaven: both JJ and Prentiss had stayed with him. Sure, they were pumping him for information about what had happened, but he didn't mind at all, not if the thumbs up he was shooting Reid was any indication.

Once the doctors had patched Sam up, he and Dean both demanded the DAMA forms and they all headed out to Bobby's place. It didn't take very long to get from the hospital to the junkyard-surrounded home. Once there, the cantankerous old hunter showed the BAU his three extra rooms, Andy he put on the couch, and had Dean and Sam bunked in his own bedroom. When asked where he was going to sleep, Bobby had smirked.

Dean said, "Don't ask."

Wisely, none of them chose to. The BAU quickly paired off, picked rooms, and went to bed. Reid, unsurprisingly, found himself sharing a room with Hotchner. He was relieved more than he could say. After having such a wonderful experience with Hotchner then waking to a demonic attack had been more than little stressful. Reid hoped that when he woke tomorrow, he would still be in Hotchner's arms, safe and sound.

"I brought your ready bag."

Reid smiled at the black bag Hotchner held out to him. He took the bag and his courage in his hands. He leaned forward, kissing Hotchner in thanks. Hotchner smiled against his lips, as if happy with Reid's boldness. The smile bolstered Reid even further. He dropped the bag, sliding his hands up Hotchner's strong arms, up his shoulders and into his dark, thick hair. He pressed several chaste, soft kisses against Hotchner's lips, cheeks, chin. Sighed against lips slightly fuller than his own when big hands smoothed up his back. "Need you."

Hotchner reacted to his whisper by grabbing his ass, hoisting Reid up his body. Reid instinctively wrapped his legs around slim hips, grinding his erection against Hotchner's hard stomach. Breath was knocked form his body as they fell onto the bed, clothing rendered from each other's bodies with little care. Reid closed his eyes, all the better to feel the exquisite drag of skin on skin. He couldn't breathe; each pant of air was a delicious pain, emphasizing the drag of his lover's fingers against his skin. Hotchner's gun-callused hands were perfectly rough, infinitely gentle, mind-numbingly arousing. They roved, caressed, stimulated the nerve endings in his skin. They made breathing so very difficult. He didn't care if he never breathed correctly ever again. "Aaron."

"Love the way you shiver whenever I touch you."

Even his voice, drenched in sultry tones, made breathing hard. Reid didn't just shiver; he shook from the intensity of pleasure. His mind couldn't comprehend anything beyond Hotchner, his body, his hands, his mouth. The kisses that stole his air and feed him desire. He clutched Hotchner's strong shoulders, needing the anchor of his body in a maelstrom of hunger, lust, and adrenaline. He dimly heard sounds echoing in the night but couldn't think enough to identify who or where they came from but they were sultry, overwhelmed, incoherent. Dear God in Heaven, he needed to come. "Please, Aaron. I need--"

"Not yet," Hotchner rumbled into his ear, nipping it with sharp teeth, soothing it with a wet tongue.

Whined high and long in displeasure when his lover pulled away, stopping only when he saw the lubricant in Hotchner's hand. Reid grabbed him as soon as he was arms' reach but Hotchner held himself away. "Aaron!"

Dark laughter answered him. "On your knees, Spencer."

He swallowed, biting his lower lip. It made Hotchner groan and steal a kiss. Reid moved at his nudge onto all fours.

"So pretty," Hotchner murmured, running a slow, heavy hand up his spine.

"Aaron." It was the only word he could think to say. It imbued every want, every desire, every silent demand. It worked. At first. Big blunt fingers slipped in one by one, ratcheting his desire higher and higher, spreading him wide, touching him deep inside, sending sparks of pleasure with every touch. He breathed his lover's name once more, demanding to be taken.

The evil bastard denied him. "I want to watch you ride my fingers."

Reid nearly growled but did it, desperate for the climax. The bed squeaked and squealed with his every movement, as if protesting his wicked lover's demand, too. The headboard thumped against the wall in an unmistakable rhythm. He was so close. So very close. Growled his lover's name, low and angry, when Hotchner pulled his fingers out but gasped when Hotchner pulled him back on his knees. Reid could feel Hotchner's hard cock pressing against his back, sliding against the sweat slickness, large thighs supporting his shifting, hungry body. Devilish hands urged him to lean back against a solid chest. Reid turned his head, lifting his lips. Hotchner gave him the kiss, licking into his mouth, but took away his hands, not letting him touch the powerful body surrounding him.

He whined his discontent into his lover's mouth; Hotchner chuckled, low and selfish, into his. Reid writhed on Hotchner' lap, spreading his knees, pushing up, thrusting back, anything to get that hard cock inside his desperate body. "Please, please, Aaron."

"Soon," he promised, kissing deeper, hands sweeping all over Reid's sweat slick body. His touch was too heavy to be flirting, too light to be enough, causing perfect insanity. Finally, finally, Hotchner lifted him, positioned him, impaled him. Reid's mouth dropped opened, his hands clenched in his own hair, his eyes stared unseeing as the agonizing bliss of Hotchner's cock slowly slid inside. Couldn't talk, couldn't think, he could only wail his pleasure.

"Fuck, the sounds you make . . ."

Reid panted, harsh and low. "Now."

Cruel, sensual laughter answered him. "No." Hotchner licked his exposed neck, hand carding into his hair to pull his head back. Reid whimpered into the hungry kiss. "All night, Spencer. I'm going to fuck you all night."

He kept his promise. Hotchner took him; long, slow thrusts that made Reid shudder, short, jabbing thrusts that made him clutch and moan. Hands that worked in concert with cock, stroking him, pinching his nipples, rolling and tugging at his balls, pressing against the outside of his prostate gland, making him scream. Kiss after kiss, on his mouth, on his neck, biting his shoulder, licking his skin. His cock was ignored; his hands thwarted when he tried to reach for it. Reid could do nothing more than clutch at Hotchner's wrists and thighs, riding the cock that fucked him.

Time and time again, Hotchner made him climb to the pinnacle but never would he let him fall. Reid was so desperate to come, he begged, pleaded, threatened, sobbed for it. But Hotchner denied it all, asking for just a little more, coaxing just a little more pleasure, outright demanding more. Reid was helpless to deny him, the feel of Hotchner inside of him, surrounding him, was incredible. Damn Hotchner and his iron strong control.

It almost became too much.

Reid's mind didn't just shut down, it floated away. Facts and statistics crowding through, his mind trying to save itself from such overwhelming pleasure.

Hotchner sensed it almost immediately. "Spencer."

"A-aaron?" He cried out at the first touch of Hotchner's hand on his cock. The angle of the thrusts changed, hitting his gland straight on. He exploded, riding the sexual, endorphin high, slumping back into Hotchner's arms, boneless, pliant, a willing vessel for his lover's enjoyment. He heard Hotchner rumbled a low groan in his ear, felt his arms clutch him harder, felt one last thrust and then his climax deep inside. Reid sighed, smiling as he used the last of his strength to tug Hotchner down for one final messy kiss.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Morgan didn't know how the hell Gideon could sleep with all that . . . that . . . Morgan refused to even think about or name what was happening in the next room. He dumped the bedding on the floor in his haste to get the hell out of the room. Gideon slept through it all without moving. He didn't bother muffling his knock, nothing could compare with that . . . that . . . racket.

"Morgan." Prentiss was not happy. "What're you--"

"I will pay you to switch rooms with me." Desperate was the bare minimum you could use to describe him.

"What?" JJ was wrapped in her blanket behind Prentiss, sleepy and mussed. Obviously they couldn't hear that . . . that . . . ruckus because they had both been asleep.

"I will pay you, I will do your paperwork, whatever. Just let me stay in here." He was this close to dropping down to his knees and begging.

"Why?"

Morgan grabbed both of them, ushering them into his room, just in time to hear a keening wail right through the damn wall.

JJ immediately clamped her hands over her mouth. Her eyes were huge and glistening with laughter above them.

Prentiss was staring at the wall, mouth open, finger pointing, eyes wide. "Is that?"

A loud moan interrupted her.

Morgan plastered his hands to his ears. He couldn't hear that . . . that . . . noise for another second. Not if he ever wanted to look Hotchner or Reid in the eyes ever again. "Please, please, please let me stay with you."

JJ, bless her soul, nodded. Her hands were still clamped over her mouth. He idly wondered how she could breathe. Prentiss was still staring at the wall, having hadn't moved a single inch. Her expression was more than shocked. It was shocked stupid. As if comprehension of what was going on next door completely stopped all mental processes in her brain. JJ had to tug her away from the wall and out of the hallway but she only used one hand. The other hand was still firmly pressed over her mouth. Morgan followed them before they could change their minds about sharing.

Bobby passed them in the hallway, then banged on _the_ door. "Keep it down in there! People are tryin' to sleep!" He walked away muttering, "Goddamn horny bastards. No consideration . . ."

JJ started hyperventilating.

Prentiss blinked.

Morgan would have groaned or laughed but he was too busy muffling that . . . that . . . that . . . _that_.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean chuckled softly at Bobby's shout. He didn't get the guy on guy thing but more power to them for getting some. He almost started compiling a list of jokes but reminded himself that the younger man had saved his brother's life. Besides, Dean figured, Reid's friends would do plenty of teasing for him. He never thought he'd be grateful to the FBI for anything, let alone his brother's life. But there you go, hell could freeze over.

"De'n?"

"Right here, Sammy." Dean sat down on the bed, carding his fingers through his brother's hair. The doctor had forcefully reminded them that Sam was not to put any pressure on his back, whatsoever. No sitting back, no lying on his back, no carrying anything heavier than a paperclip. At least not for a few days. Sam had been damn lucky, an inch deeper and he would have been dead or paralyzed.

"Everybody 'k?" The kid was slurring, still under the influence of the painkillers the doctors had loaded him up with.

"Yeah, everyone's good."

"Gotta stop 'im."

"Stop who, Sammy?"

"'ake."

"Jake?" That was the name of the guy who had stabbed Sam in the back. The name of a dead man walking.

"Yeah."

"Why do we need to stop him?"

"W'rks fer d'mon."

Dean nodded even though Sam probably couldn't see him. "We'll find him. But you need to get your rest. We got time."

"Noo."

"Sam, oceans aren't boiling, okay? Frogs aren't raining from the sky. Let's get you your strength back first."

"Call t'oadhous?"

"Yeah."

Sam must have heard something in his voice because he lifted his head, hand tugging on Dean's jeans. "De'n . . . what's't?"

"The roadhouse burned to the ground. Ash is dead. Probably Ellen -- a lot of other hunters, too." He didn't soften the news. There really wasn't any way to soften shit like that.

"'emons?" Sam asked softly, eyes closing against the news.

"Yeah, we think so. We think because Ash found something."

Sam dropped his head back on the pillow. "W'at?"

"Bobby's working on that right now. Go to sleep, Sammy. We'll work on it in the morning." Dean soothed him, kept his voice low and quite, kept up the smoothing of his fingers through Sam's hair. Sure enough, Sam relaxed back into sleep. He propped a pillow behind his back, letting his eyes close but dozing only lightly. He also made sure his fingers stayed in Sam's hair. That bastard wasn't taking his brother again.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hotchner noticed he was one of the last people down for breakfast. Reid would be the very last. He had made sure of that, wanting a chance to smooth the way for his lover. He knew that after last night, they would be in for a world of ribbing. Hotchner hoped that by coming downstairs first, he would bear the brunt of it of it. He just hoped it wouldn't be that bad. "Good morning."

"I hate you."

Hotchner laughed at Morgan's opening salvo as he poured himself coffee. "I hate you, too."

"I can't respect you anymore."

"That's okay, Reid still does."

"Oh Jesus God, don't remind me."

Snickers, they were all snickering into their food, trying to hide their laughter. Hell, Hotchner was trying not to laugh too hard, too. He looked up just in time to see his lover sliding into the room. Reid smiled, eyes sparkling, skin glowing. Hotchner felt like he was quoting from a romance novel, but he couldn't help it. Life was amazingly good. His friends were laughing, safe and sound here in a hunter's home. His lover was bright and joyous and smiling at Hotchner like he was the center of his world. Hotchner couldn't resist reeling Reid in by the waist and giving him another kiss. "Morning."

"Morning." Reid immediately blushed as the Winchesters whistled and catcalled them. Andy was giving him the thumbs up and a wide smile.

Morgan was smirking. "Hey, Reid--"

Oh, it was definitely time to nip this in the bud. "Morgan, do you really want to piss off the guy who can make you the first example of spontaneous human combustion?" Hotchner raised an eyebrow at him.

Morgan's mouth opened and closed, glaring at Reid's smile, somehow smug and shy all at once.

The Winchesters and Bobby snickered. Prentiss, JJ, and Gideon tried to be nice by hiding their wide smiles. Andy obviously wanted to laugh but was scooting away from Morgan before he let it out. As for Hotchner, he smirked at his friend, smirk growing into grin when Reid propped his chin on his shoulder and whispered, "Thanks."

Hotchner turned his head and pecked Reid on the lips. "You're welcome."

"Oh Jesus God, my eyes!" Morgan howled.

Hotchner laughed, along with everyone else. More laughter filled the kitchen as he and Reid served themselves breakfast, joining everyone at Bobby's table. From the marks on it, Hotchner could tell the man used this table more as a weapons cleaning platform and book storage than as an eating surface. Looking around the house, he also knew this place hadn't seen so many laughing people in a long, long time. Hotchner absently wondered what had happened to Bobby to make him this way because the house also bore the marks of a once happy home.

"When's your flight home?" Sam asked them in general.

Hotchner was pulled out of his musings by Sam's question. "Whenever we're ready."

"We can't leave," Reid countered him, turning to more fully face him. "We have to stay and help Sam."

"No, Spencer, you don't have to--"

"It's big, right?" Reid interrupted Sam, turning to him now. "Whatever Yellow Eyes wanted us for, it was something big, right?"

Sam reluctantly nodded.

"Wait, what's going on?" Prentiss asked, leaning forward, food forgotten. Everyone else was similarly affected.

"The demon that kidnapped us," Sam explained. "Yellow Eyes, he said Cold Oak was a test. He wanted us to fight each other. The winner would lead his demonic army."

"Jake's out there, alone," Reid pointed out. "He's the one the demon would most likely approach for whatever he had planned."

"We're looking into it," Sam reassured Reid. "You guys don't have to worry, we'll stop him."

"But can you stop him alone?" Reid projected that intensity of his, when he felt the most passionate about the subject. "Jake has superhuman strength, he's demon blessed. He nearly killed you. You'll need help. And all the hunters in the area were at the Roadhouse."

The three hunters looked at each other, clearly debating the use of the FBI to their mission.

Reid wasn't satisfied with pushing his case with just them because he then turned back to Hotchner and Gideon, knowing that they would be the ones he would have to convince.

Hotchner held up his hand for forestall his lover, raking his eyes over his team. He saw what he knew he would see. "We'll stay, if they need us."

"We could use the help," Bobby announced. And that was that.

After breakfast, JJ packed up to take Andy to the airport. She was going to see to it that he made it back to his van/home before flying back to DC herself. When the FBI had agreed to stay and help the hunters, Andy had announced that he would be more of a hindrance than a help in whatever was going to happen. Sam and Reid had been sad to see him go, but both were realistic enough to know that Andy was right. So, Andy shook hands with everyone but grabbed Reid in an enthusiastic hug and Sam in a careful one.

"Dudes! If you're ever in Guthrie, Oklahoma, you come see me, okay? We'll bong a load together!"

"Andy," Reid gently reminded him. "FBI."

Andy blinked, then waved his hand at them in a move reminiscent of a Jedi mind trick, grinning mischievously. "Forget I said that, you will."

Dean snorted so hard his coffee splattered his hand. Sam and Reid grinned so hard it had to hurt. Morgan and JJ rolled their eyes but were smiling. Prentiss couldn't help her geeky self and played along. Neither Gideon nor Bobby had any idea what they were laughing about, muttering at the younglings' foolishness. Hotchner rolled his eyes at the old codgers. Andy stuck his head out of the rental's window to wave goodbye. Once he was out of sight, they all trooped back into the house.

"What now?" Prentiss asked the room at large.

"We look for demonic omens." Bobby pulled out his computer and starting typing.

Hotchner looked over his shoulder. The man was pulling up one search window at a time. It looked like a time consuming process, especially with the slow internet connection Bobby was working with. "Bobby, could you give me a list of what you're looking for?"

"Yeah, why?" Bobby peered at him.

Hotchner grinned and pulled out his phone, putting it on speed dial.

"The office of supreme wonderfulness, how can I help you be wonderful today?"

"Garcia." Hotchner couldn't help the little spike of satisfaction when Garcia meeped a little at his voice.

"Yes, sir?"

"Mr. Bobby Singer is going to give you a list of occurrences, search for them all and give us a call back."

"Yes, sir."

He handed the phone to Bobby, who was still peering at him. Hotchner grinned. "Garcia's plugged into every database on the planet. She can search for whatever you're looking for much faster."

Bobby grudgingly took the phone.

Less than fifteen minutes later, Morgan answered his ringing phone, turning on the speaker phone after looking at the caller ID. "Hey, Mama."

"Hey, sugar. Everyone make it through the night okay?"

Morgan glared at Hotchner and Reid. "Yeah, some better than others."

Everyone snickered, Reid blushed again, holding out his hands in a threatening manner. Morgan rolled his eyes at him. "What'cha got for us?"

"Well, I looked for all those demonic omens Mr. Singer asked for."

"Find anything?" Bobby asked, sipping his coffee, but looking interested.

"Oh yeah. I have no idea what it means, but I did find something." They could hear clicking through the phone line.

"What is it?" Sam asked, leaning closer to Morgan's phone.

"The number of cattle deaths and lightening storms in Wyoming has skyrocketed. Awww, all those poor moo moos."

"Garcia." Hotchner had to work to keep the laughter out of his voice. Everyone else was softly laughing or smiling.

"I wanna meet this Garcia," Dean whispered to his brother only to be smacked by Sam and glared at by Morgan.

"Uh, sorry, sir. Well, the numbers have gone up all over Wyoming except in one place: Southern Wyoming."

"Wyoming?" Dean immediately looked to Bobby and Sam for answers. Both men shrugged.

"Yeah," Garcia answered instead. "That one area's totally clean -- spotless."

"What is it?" Sam asked, not of Garcia but of Gideon.

Hotchner turned to his mentor and raised a brow.

Gideon shot Bobby a look, as if deferring to the hunter. Bobby motioned for him to go on. "It's almost as if the demons are surrounding that particular area."

Bobby nodded. "Makes sense. Must be something there."

"Any idea what?" Dean asked the room at large. No one had a clue.

Bobby stood. "Time to research."

Hotchner watched with amusement as Dean and Morgan had the same sour look on their faces while the others enthusiastically volunteered to help. Bobby had looked at them like they were all crazy but let them at his books. He gruffly told them what to look for before bending over his own stack of books. Hotchner knew he had enough hands so he decided to make sure their absence this weekend had gone unnoticed by the upper echelon of the FBI. He even had JJ arranged for them to have leave for a few more days, just in case.

Steady research and silence had reigned for a few hours but when Bobby's dog lifted his head, Dean, Sam, and Bobby all jumped for their guns. Well, Dean and Bobby jumped, Sam winced his way to his weapon. The BAU people knew better than to ask, reaching for their weapons, too. Bobby and Dean signaled for all of them to stay in the house, then left. Only to return mere moments later with a blonde woman in tow. She was older than Hotchner but not by much. She had the look of a woman who had lived a hard life and was made stronger by it.

"Ellen!" Sam lumbered forward, arms opened, relief on his face.

With just the call of her name, Sam explained her identity. She was the owner of the Roadhouse. When they had helped Dean and Bobby dig graves at the burned wreckage, the two men had search furtively for her, but the bodies had been so destroyed by the fire that identification had been impossible. It seemed she wasn't among the bodies they'd buried that day.

"Sam." She opened her arms but jumped when Dean growled, "Careful." Ellen looked at Sam more critically, noticed the wound on his back and adjusted her arms so they didn't touch it. "How're you, kiddo?"

"Glad you're not dead."

Her laugh was bitter and painful.

"Drink, Ellen?" Bobby held out a shot.

Hotchner and the others of his team all looked at Bobby strangely, not understanding why he was offering her a drink so early in the day.

It was obvious she didn't think it was strange, but she did roll her eyes. "Bobby, is this really necessary?"

"Just a belt of Holy Water, shouldn't hurt." Bobby didn't smirk, didn't even look vaguely amused. He was dead serious.

Sam softly explained to them all that demons couldn't and wouldn't voluntarily consume holy water.

"Whiskey now, if you don't mind," she said, after draining the shot glass dry.

Bobby chuckled, others laughed softly. He left to get her that whiskey she ordered.

Ellen seemed to notice them for the first time.

Hotchner held out his hand. "Aaron Hotchner. My team." One by one, he introduced them.

Ellen shook their hands, critically eying them. "You don't look like hunters."

"We are," Gideon smiled at her in a way Hotchner knew he reserved for his lady friends. "We hunt monsters of the human variety."

Her expression said, "Huh?"

"They're feds," Dean announced with some kind of mischievous glee. "FBI."

Now her expression was turned on him and Sam and it said "What the hell?"

Sam quickly, succinctly filled her in. After the explanation, she smiled and patted Reid's hand. "Thank you, sweetheart."

His lover blushed and smiled.

Bobby came back with that whiskey and handed to her. "Ellen, what happened? How'd you get out?"

All of the levity in the room evaporated.

"I wasn't supposed to. I was supposed to be in there with everybody else." Ellen scoffed, a harsh, bitter sound. "But we ran out of pretzels, of all things. It was just dumb luck." She slammed back the whiskey like the barback she was. She nodded for him to pour her another. "Anyway, that's when Ash called. Panic in his voice." She sighed, not meeting anyone's eyes as she reflected. "He told me to look in the safe. Then the call cut out. By the time I got back, the flames were sky-high. And everybody was dead. I couldn't have been gone more than fifteen minutes."

"Sorry, Ellen." Sam wrapped a big hand around both of hers and the empty glass.

She smiled at him but it held little mirth and a whole lot of sadness. "A lot of good people died in there. And I got to live. Lucky me."

Hotchner gave Gideon a look that he correctly interpreted by moving closer to Ellen and taking her hand. Everyone watched in silence as the two of the studied each other. Finally, Gideon spoke, "We'd like to help you avenge them."

Ellen nodded, exhaling shakily.

"Ellen, you mentioned a safe," Bobby asked.

"A hidden safe we keep in the basement."

"Demons get what was in it?" Dean asked.

"No." Ellen pulled out a large piece of paper from her pocket. She carefully unfolded it, smoothing it out on the tabletop.

Everyone crowded around. It was a map, covered with black lines and X's.

"Wyoming." Dean muttered.

"What does that mean?" Prentiss asked, nudging the map closer for a better look.

No one could answer her.

Bobby grunted. "Back to the books."

Dean and Morgan groaned.

Bobby glared at them. "You two go clean and load all the weapons."

Dean whooped a little, Morgan grinned, everyone else rolled their eyes.

"I don't believe it," Bobby declared a couple of hours later.

"What? You got something?" Sam asked.

"A lot more than that." Bobby motioned them all closer to the map.

Everyone stopped, putting their books or weapons down.

"Each of these X's is an abandoned frontier church -- all mid 19th century. And all of them built by Samuel Colt." He pointed to each of the marks, then looked up at his fellow hunters.

"Samuel Colt -- the demon-killing, gun-making Samuel Colt?" Dean asked incredulously.

Hotchner noticed how Reid was carefully studying the map while Bobby played professor again, explaining the importance of Samuel Colt to the BAU. "Reid?"

"Bobby, did Samuel Colt build something to connect all of these churches?" Reid asked, fingers tracing the partial black lines.

Bobby smiled at him like the star pupil he was. "Yep. Iron railways."

Reid absently groped around on the table. Hotchner nudged a black marker into his lover's hand. Reid was so absorbed he didn't even say thank you, but Hotchner knew he was absently thinking it. Reid used the marker to extend the lines completely, connecting the churches, forming a seven-pointed star on the map. Then he leaned closer, biting his lip in that way of his as he thought. He drew more lines, short bars that connected one point to the next. Then more lines, curved ones this time, forming two concentric surrounding the star.

"Tell me that's not what I think it is," Dean demanded.

"What is it?" Prentiss asked, looking from Reid to Dean.

But it was Sam that answered. "It's a Devil's Trap. A 100-square mile Devil's Trap."

"That's brilliant," Dean breathed, obviously awed by its creator. "Iron lines demons can't cross."

"I've never heard of anything that massive." Ellen turned to Bobby for confirmation.

"No one has." Bobby eyed Reid. "Good job, kid."

Reid smiled, nodded in thanks, then scooted back into Hotchner's space. He smoothed a hand through Reid's hair, praise and connection in one motion.

"And after all these years none of the lines are broken? I mean, it still works?" Dean looked straight at his brother and Bobby for the answer. It would have been insulting except this was their territory, their specialty.

"Definitely." Sam nodded to emphasize.

"How do you know?" Morgan wanted to know.

Sam pointed to Morgan's phone. "All those omens Garcia found. I mean the demons, they must be circling and they can't get in."

"Yeah, well . . . they're trying," Bobby grunted.

"Why?" Ellen asked.

"What's inside the trap?" Prentiss asked at the same time.

"That's what I've been looking for." Sam grinned sheepishly. "Didn't even realize I was looking inside a Devil's trap. And, uh, there's nothing except an old cowboy cemetery right in the middle."

"Well, what's so important about a cemetery or . . . what's Colt trying to protect?" Dean asked.

"Unless . . ." Gideon hedged.

"Unless what?" Bobby asked.

"What if Colt wasn't trying to keep the demons out? What if he was trying to keep something in?" Gideon proposed. "You did say it was a devil's trap."

The effect was clear as the hunters exchanged horrified looks.

"Well, that's a comforting thought," Ellen muttered.

Everyone nodded. Whatever was trapped inside such a power devil's trap had to be bad. Apocalyptic bad.

"Yeah, you think?" Dean snarked, glaring at the map as if it was at fault.

"Could the demons get inside?" Hotchner asked mostly of Bobby but glanced at all of the hunters just in case.

Bobby shook his head. "This thing's so powerful, you'd practically need an A-bomb to destroy it. No way a full-blood demon gets across."

"No." Sam paused, exchanging telling looks with Reid. "But we know who could."

 

~*~*~*~*~*~  
~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter Eight

 

Night fell over the cemetery; somehow, the darkness made it all the more eerie. When they had arrived, Garcia called with satellite intelligence. The satellite had picked up two heat signatures only a few feet apart. Gideon and Bobby had hypothesized that because demons wouldn't be able to approach the demon's trap, Yellow Eyes probably had Jake cut through the iron railway, destroying the most powerful devil's trap they'd ever seen. Now, Reid waited with Morgan and Prentiss behind one of the larger tombs. Hotchner and Gideon to the left. Bobby and Ellen to the right. The Winchester brothers were directly across from Reid's position. From where they were all positioned, they had clear lines of sight to the cemetery gate. The moonlight shone off the darkness of Jake's skin as he opened the gate and walked in.

"Howdy, Jake." Sam stood up, appearing from the shadows. They all stood at his signal, guns raised and pointed at the soldier.

Jake froze, eyes going from one to another to another. Seriously outnumbered was the best way to describe the demon's solider. "I knew I should've killed you." He pointed to Sam and Reid.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, "you should've."

Jake growled, hands coming up.

"Okay, just take it real easy there, son," Bobby ordered, sighting his rifle.

"And if I don't?" Jake challenged.

"Wait and see," Sam taunted.

Jake sneered. "What, you a tough guy all of a sudden? What are you gonna do -- kill me?"

"It's a thought." Sam sighted his rifle too, showing his resolve.

"You had your chance. You couldn't."

"I won't make that mistake twice."

To everyone else's surprise, Jake began to laugh.

"What are you smiling at, you little bitch?" Dean growled, stepping forward, gun at the ready, intent in his eyes.

Jake smirked at him. "Hey, ladies, do me a favor. Put those guns to your heads."

To Reid's horror, Prentiss and Ellen put their guns to their heads. "Oh God."

"See that Ava girl was right," Jake was saying. "Once you give in to it, there's all sorts of new Jedi mind tricks you can learn."

"Let them go." Sam's order was nearly roared, imbued with dread, anger, and determination.

"Shoot him," Ellen demanded, even with the gun to her head. Prentiss echoed her.

"You'll be mopping up skull before you get a shot off," Jake promised, then paused, surveying all the guns pointed at him. "Everybody, put your guns down. Except you, darlings," he amended.

Against Reid's wishes, his hand dropped his weapon.

"Okay. Thank you."

Reid raised his hands.

"Nuh uh, Spencer, hands down and behind your back."

Reid nearly cursed.

Because they didn't want Jake ordering the women to shoot themselves, nobody else moved, even when he turned his attention away from them. Jake moved towards the large crypt that dominated the little cemetary, pulling the demon-killing Colt out of his pocket. He strolled unimpeded to the targeted crypt.

As if by an unseen signal, Dean and Bobby jumped to Ellen, grabbing the gun, pulling her to safety. Morgan echoed their movements, pulling Prentiss' gun from her. Reid didn't help, instead, he stood in shocked paralysis, watching Sam.

Sam didn't help his brother save Ellen. He had gone after Jake instead, shooting the solider in the back. Jake was on the ground, begging Sam for his life, but no one was paying attention to his pleas. Including Sam, who had simply emptied his gun into the literal backstabber. But it was too late. Jake had already inserted the Colt into the crypt. The engravings on the crypt began spinning, a malevolent whirly twirly in an indiscernible pattern.

"Oh, no," Bobby breathed out horror with his words, eyes glued to the moving crypt.

"Bobby, what is it?" Gideon asked, hand tightening on his gun.

"It's hell." Bobby began back away.

"Dean!" Sam yelled his brother's name but Dean was stubbornly pulling the Colt from the Crypt.

"Take cover -- now!" Bobby yelled, running for his own life.

Reid ran, jumping behind a tombstone that barely covered him. Relief surged through him as Hotchner landed beside him then covered him with his own body. He covered Hotchner's vulnerable head with his arms, knowing if the explosion was big enough, it wouldn't do much good. He couldn't see, but he could hear the doors bursting open. Over Hotchner's shoulder a huge black cloud surged over their heads. It was the same black mass that heralded the arrival of the Acheri demons. More massive, so evil, Reid could feel the malevolence in the very air itself.

"What the hell just happened?!" Dean yelled over the rushing mass.

"That's a devil's gate!" Bobby yelled.

"A damn door to hell!" Ellen screamed the clarification for them all.

"What the hell is the black shit?" Morgan demanded.

"Demons!" Dean answered. "Before they take a body!"

"Jesus God," Prentiss breathed from next to him and Hotchner, barely audible over the screaming winds. Morgan curled protectively around her. She clutched his arm and her gun tighter.

"Come on! We gotta shut that gate!" Ellen shouted, pulling at Bobby and Sam, the closest to her.

They struggled, along with Hotchner and Morgan, to the crypt's doors, thrusting themselves against the rushing monstrous mass. They pushed at the doors, nearly in vain. Reid stood to help. Prentiss too. But Dean was checking the Colt for bullets.

"Dean, what are you doing?" he yelled at him.

"If the demon gave this to Jake . . . then maybe--"

"Dean, look out!" Reid shouted.

The Yellowed Eyed Demon, the one who had taken him from Hotchner's home, materialized behind Dean. The demon inhabited a middle aged Caucasian man with thinning brown hair but demonic yellow eyes. A single flick of his hand flung the Colt out of Dean's hand and into his own. "A boy shouldn't play with Daddy's guns."

He threw Dean into the air, slamming him into a tombstone.

"Dean!" Sam ran to his brother.

Yellow Eyes threw Sam into a tree. "I'll get to you in a minute, champ. But I'm proud of you," he glanced at Jake's dead body, "knew you had it in you."

Reid hurled fire at the demon, keeping him under a barrage of flames and fireballs.

"Boy, didn't your mama tell you not to play with fire?" The demon walked right through it all.

Reid scrambled back but it was too late. His body screamed as he was slammed into the ground, paralyzed by the demon's power.

The demon turned back to the oldest Winchester. "Dean, Dean, Dean. It's time for you to die, boy."

Reid watched in helpless fear as the demon raised the gun, aiming it at Dean. But the bastard screamed in rage, instead, as a dark haired, bearded man grabbed him from behind. The man wrestled out a black mass from its human shell; the shell crumpled to the ground. Dean snatched the Colt that fell from nerveless fingers just in time. The demon smashed the man in the face and surged back into his human skin. The demon shot to his feet.

Dean met him with a cocked Colt and a bullet in the head. The demon dropped at Dean's feet, he lowered his gun, not looking at the demon at all. Instead, he was staring at the dark haired man. "Dad."

Reid jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder, falling back into Hotchner's arms. Knowing he was safe, he turned back in time to see Dean and Sam's father cup the faces of his sons in each hand. He nodded to them both, tears clearly visible in his eyes. He stepped back and disappeared.

Dean cleared his throat, obviously trying to get rid of the feelings brought on by seeing his dead father. He pointed the Colt at the demon. "Well, check that off the to-do list." His voice was rough, still clogged with emotion.

Reid turned to see the gate closed, all of them making it through the release of hell with barely a scratch. He curled into Hotchner's arms, grateful for his strong presence.

Sam stepped close to his brother, their conversation too quiet, too private to eavesdrop on. Finally, Dean leaned closer to the dead demon. "That was for our mom . . . you son of a bitch."

 

~*~*~*~*~*~  
~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Epilogue

 

The dream was unlike the visions; they caused him no physical pain. The dream was like his encounter with the Yellowed Eyed Demon: confusing at first, before clarity arrived. He saw Spencer in Cold Oak, surrounded by people the other man didn't know or trust. Ava was there but he didn't die by her hand. Instead, he tried to leave Cold Oak but the Acheri demons stopped him. He was found by the others hung by the neck from the windmill, serving as a warning. Sam saw Hotchner, sitting in a darkened room, head bowed, a tumbler of amber liquid in his hand. Beside the agent, one bottle was empty, the other nearly so. The bleakness in his eyes told their own story.

Then the dream changed. Sam was in Cold Oak again, standing over Andy's dead body. He picked up the other man, placing him side by side with Lily. Ava died by Jake's hands, just like in reality, only it was after she had successfully killed Andy. He flashed to his fight with Jake, this time without Spencer there to deflect the knife. It went in deep, deep enough to kill him. He watched as he died in Dean's arms. Watched his brother's anguish at losing his baby brother. Watched as Dean made a deal with the devil, trading his soul for Sam's life. Another flash and he was watching again, this time helplessly pinned to a wall, as hellhounds ripped his brother to shreds. There were tears in his eyes as he dug Dean's grave. He wouldn't let Bobby make the cross, wouldn't let him salt and burn Dean's body, just in case. Then he saw it. Saw Dean suspended by his arms and legs, screaming in pain, screaming for help, in hell.

"Dean!"

"Sammy! Wake up!"

Sam jerked forward, towards Dean's voice, into Dean's arms. He held on for dear life, his brother safely alive, safe from the torments of hell.

"You okay?" Dean's voice was sleep rough but low and soothing just like the big hands rubbing his back.

"Yeah."

"Bad dream?"

"A dream of what could have been."

Dean pulled back, confusion coloring what Sam could see of his face in the weak moonlight. "What?"

Sam told him what he remembered, nearly all of it, the dream being so vivid in his mind's eye. He stared at his brother, shaking him gently. "Dean, he saved you from going to hell."

Dean smirked. "Nah, bitch, he saved your ass. He just saved me some trouble."

Sam rolled his eyes, swatting at Dean.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Another rough case: two brothers hunting people for sport. The youngest one had died, the oldest looking at a possible death sentence. Their parents had passed away, leaving them to their uncle, a man who lived almost off the grid and taught them how to hunt. Without any socialization, they couldn't connect to people as human beings. They only saw prey. If only by the grace of God, two other brothers out there could have been them. Hotchner signed off on his report, glad to be finally done. Staring out of his window and into the bullpen, Hotchner saw Reid smiling and laughing with the rest of their team. He stood, lingering at the door to hear what they were laughing about.

"I heard a different story," Morgan refuted something Prentiss had just said, slinging an arm around Garcia's ample form. "Dean said it was all Sam's fault."

Reid rolled his eyes. "Dean always says it's Sam's fault."

"I think Bobby's version is the most unbiased version of the story," Prentiss declared. "He thinks they're both idjits."

JJ nodded and laughed at Prentiss' scarily perfect imitation of Bobby. "I'm with Emily."

"Bobby told Ellen the same version he told Prentiss and JJ." Gideon grinned into his coffee. "I would believe his version as well."

Morgan held up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm just saying Dean's got the best version about the rabbit's foot."

Garcia laughed, shaking her yellow curls. "They're such boys. You can tell they're brothers just by listening to them fight."

"Sam says they wouldn't fight so much if Dean would just listen to him," Reid defended his friend.

"Dean says the same thing," Morgan pointed out.

It hadn't surprised Hotchner one bit that his team kept in contact with the hunters. He was pretty sure Gideon even had a date with Ellen a month or so back. Reid and Sam talked nearly every week, trading experiences on cases and tips on supernatural occurrences. He had even overheard Morgan on the phone with Dean and Bobby discussing weaponry, munitions, and tactics. It amused Hotchner to no end that his crack FBI team was now good friends with hunters of the supernatural.

It had been months since the cemetery. Things were back to normal and sometimes, even better than normal. The divorce was final, Haley was still bitter but had cooled some, even letting him visit Jack whenever he could. His life with Reid was better than he had hoped. He could be at work for five days straight and when he finally got to spend some time with Reid, the other man would simply cuddle into his arms and relax. Reid never badgered him to work less, and in an ironic role reversal, he was the one who had to drag Reid out of the office or away from the files. Hotchner smirked. Actually, the easiest way to distract Reid was through good old fashioned sex. He found that he liked distracting Reid a lot. Of course, now, the rest of the team made sure they _never_ shared a room again but it was always fun to try, just to see the look on Morgan's face.

Hotchner glanced at his watch and decided it was definitely time to leave. He grabbed his things and closed up his office. "All right, everyone, dinner's on me."

He saw the surprise on their faces, but also the delight. The pleasure in Reid's face still had the power to steal his breath away. So much so, he dropped a light kiss on his lips. Wolf whistles, catcalls, and groans sounded all the way around. Reid busied himself with his things but couldn't hide the pale roses on his cheeks. Hotchner playfully glared at them all, then grinned as they impudently pretended to be chastised.

This was a good day.

The End


End file.
